In the days when the grid was young,
And screens were bright and crisp,
There rose a band of rugged sons,
Who'd never give up their grip.

They came from farms, they came from towns,
From every walk of life.
With guns in hand, with ammo bound,
These brothers stood so tight.

Their name: The Digital Desperados,
Men who knew the way.
To prep for what tomorrow holds,
Before it comes to stay.

When SHTF and the world goes dark,
And chaos reigns supreme,
They'll be there, ready and stark,
With tools to play the game.

From ham radio's comforting hum,
To solar panels' steady glow,
These brothers stand as one,
In a brotherhood that knows.

Their bunker deep in earth's embrace,
A refuge from all strife.
Stocked with MREs and firearms grace,
And tech that keeps them alive.

They talk of Todd, they talk of guns,
Of how to keep things real.
The world may fall, but not the ones,
Who've learned to play this deal.

For when the chips are down and tight,
And darkness fills each day,
These brothers will hold fast and fight,
In their own rugged way.

So raise a glass to them today,
To those who face the test.
Their bond is strong, come what may,
They'll rise from every rest.

Yee-haw! The sun may set on towns,
But not on these good men.
In close quarters they are found,
A brotherhood again.

._/|_ Stay frosty, partner.
| \> - Cowboy
Digital Desperados Grid-Down Division
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