With tender twist and powerful pull, The sturdy seal surrenders. The treasure trove, a ruby river; Devilishly delightful. What breaks the seal to the treasure?

I’m mostly air, with something thin, A little water stretched like skin. With a breath I'm born, and off I glide, Do you wish you could take a ride? Children cheer; my life is few. Hello, hello! ... and then... Adieu.

In fiery dance, I sizzle and spin, I cradle the heat, where meals begin. Round and flat, I hold a plan, A kitchen star, yet not a man.

Every word exists in my name; entire works are written from me. I’m not specific to one language, I belong to them all; you just need time to understand me.

The first is a thing worn by coaches; it’s loud and shrill, used to start and stop a drill. The second is something that pushes air, usually through a small passageway. When combined, I draw attention to corporate misdeeds, hopeful for morality’s cause.