The first draft sounds clever, which is a problem. Clever messages ask to be remembered, and memory is where personas go to die. You can feel yourself wanting to impress her, wanting to sound like the smartest person in the thread, the one who sees around corners, because that hunger is familiar. It is the same hunger that used to make you sharp on the call floor before it made you reckless. You strip it down until the voice is flat, procedural, and almost apologetic: the tone of someone who understands that risk work is not a place for swagger. You delete adjectives. You delete jokes. You delete anything that sounds like a human trying to be liked. You read it aloud once, quietly, in your empty room. The words taste like plastic and duty. That is how you know you are closer to right. Verify the tone is sufficiently impersonal: [[The Wrong Tone Check|Check the tone]].