I circle °§° when I'm attending to high priority problem solving...I get that "call", comes at any hour all the time.  
I am a creative, straightforward problem solver, of that I serve a Use.
I don't sugar coat or concern myself with asinine diplomacy when what needs to be done takes precedence over graceful depositary.
  
I'm the bullseye solution spokeswoman, I see past the distractive story, connect the dots, then go in for the **** of the comfort zone, I do not speak enchanting hokee, to smooth the shock of my delivery.
  
I Call it Out for What it is, then lock my eye on each target who owes explanation to my Question, I go down the board until I'm satisfied, Cold Silence lets them shiver just enough to feel the Cold Choices they sold, then I sit and smile with ease, and Offer plausible suggestions to **** the problem, fast, and with no remorse for their poor professional Choice.

We reconvene within the hour.
I listen to their fumbled excuses, but they always impress with a touching integrity, owning their choices made for reasons I understand, but will not stand...
"Gotta keep the Machine running, even when it's broken."
  
I receive official plan of action which I must always find compromise...but immediate action is immplemented, when I get my way, The take down hits'em where it hurts, the sleezy ****...
the **** is no small fish, the **** are the bleep bleep bleep with sanctioning power, so deft proceedings must start the the transition within reasonable forecast and market stability, but last 8 months showing progressive movement towards bleep bleep speaks louder, never trust the newscasters story, bleep bleep, it's looking like we will pull through, but turbulence is never far away.
  
Buckle up, stay cool, this baby  is clear for landing and a safe arrival.

Still I will °§° circle, seems spinnings my thing.

Break to planned position...

The Isotrain Mechanism then headed out in the midst of the stars.
Dragon-Man programmed the Matic-pilot to travel just this far.
He then piped up, So what do you think should be our new slogan?
I promise whatever ideas you guys have I will be open.
Breastplate Bearer sat up and spoke, as only he would
If we cannot defend thee, then nobody else could
This fight isn’t our fault but we still go full throttle
You fool Breastplate-Bearer that is not a fitting motto.
Lady of the Night asked, Where is Message I have not seen her in a while
Message came out of the Emerald Latrine with the biggest smile.
Why you grinning, Lady of the Night asked, Message said, Oh I just heard you talking absurd
And mottos, slogans, and anthems are my speciality, my people dabbled in spoken word.
From the depths of the sky to all the realms you know, we are arisen and come.
So Drozen and the Faceless Tongues, those will not end up slain cannot run.
This is the SheTalkman of the Federation, if you did not have evil you’d have nothing at all.
So it does not matter how you will rise or where, because you will together fall.

I’ve never heard of SheTalkman, Dragon-Man said with a wry grin.
It doesn’t sound as good as Breastplate-Bearer, said Breast-plate Bearer’s seated voice scowling.
Message said I guessed now is a good time to say that I am the Federation’s spokesman.
Or spokeswoman, why you Earthlings attach male to everything is one thing I don’t understand
You can’t say mankind without man, Breastplate-Bearer said in a combative tone.
You also can’t pronounce it without kind, Lady of the Night interrupted, So leave her alone.
We are here, Dragon-Man said, relieved to break them up before something bad happened here.
This is an ugly here, Lady of the Night replied as the Isotrain Mechanism shifted to Chaplain gear
Dragon-Man touched his head and then his chest, Message asked, What on earth is that?!
Breast-plate Bearer condescendly said, we are not on Earth anymore, and it is a Bloodstored Chant.
Dragonman replied, There is no Oathed Sacrifice without the Bloodstored Chant and the Laisian oath.
Lady of the Night asked, Do we come for war or peace, and Dragonman said grimly, Both.

A Thousand Voices

Create a symphony of solutions
(confusion.)
The fearful friend
(misery loves company they say),
exclaims, Don’t do it! You’ll be
lonely the rest of your life.
The spiritual guru
(enlighted, so listen, right?)
peacefully proposes, Just
observe, the answer is within you.
The realistic pal
(reminding me I still have work to do),
proclaims, You’ll be wishing for
what you had once he’s gone.
The conniving critique
(you will hear what I have to say),
shouts, You’re such a failure!  
No wonder you can’t be loved.
The spokeswoman for the quarter-life crisis
(my potential!)
whispers, Get it right.  This is your
only chance in the game of life.
The satisfied sidekick
(change is harder than comfort),
sermonizes, You’re happy enough.
You need to count your blessings.

At the Florence Nightingale treatment
centre, a spokeswoman for the medical
team suggested treating Boris in a field
camp with a Herd of Friesians nearby,
or in the background for moral support.