ANTHEM HALL

WOOF… (reverent) O ancient creed of WRAFF, revered, Through countless dawns you've persevered, Your sacred laws, in scrolls of blue, Define what every pup must do, (WOOF) From Ritual of Treat Allocation, To Snoot-Inspection Registration, Your wisdom guides our steady stance, In every march, in every glance WE SWEAR UPON THE CODE WE KEEP, INSCRIBED IN PAW AND MEMORY DEEP, IN UNITY, IN CALM CONTROL THE WRAFF FORCE GUARDS THE SNACK-PATROL (WOOF…) Through noble tasks both grand and small, We honor every fetcher's call, O ORDER OF THE WRAFF DECREE, WE SERVE WITH STOIC DIGNITY In solemn chambers, still and wide, We train our minds to override Temptations such as rustling bags Or squeaky toys in crimson tags, (WOOF) We study ancient Pup Technique, The Art of Tail-Wag, pure and sleek, The noble stance of "Sit-but-Wait", Commanded in the Scrolls of State O lineage proud, O pack of old, Your chronicles in leather told, Detail the trials we overcame: The Great Biscuit Famine… by name (dramatic hush) Yet through it all your guidance stayed, Till order once again was made WE LIFT OUR VOICES STRONG AND CLEAR, WITH REVERENCE FOR THE DUTY HERE, IN BLACK AND BLUE, THROUGH NIGHT AND DAY, THE WRAFF FORCE WALKS THE HONORED WAY (WOOF! WOOF!) Let future pups remember well The creed that binds us, firm as steel, THE WRAFF FORCE STANDS IN UNITY, ETERNAL IN ITS PAW-LICIES WOOF… Ceremonial rites concluded. Proceed with decorum. WOOF… (reverent)

Drums rumble Marching in the dusk, silent boots on the floor, WRAFF FORCE rises, ready once more. Through shadows we advance, precision in our stride, snack intel guarded, classified inside. Our mission brief is simple, yet oddly complex, retrieve the treat, secure the specs. We face each threat with tactical grace, but lose our focus if snacks fall out of place. (WOOF) WRAFF Force, elite and bold, guarding snacks like minted gold. If danger bites, we bite back too, that's K-9 logic, tried and true. WRAFF Force, stand proud, stand tall, the overtrained snack corps saving all. goo-o-o-ood SNAAACKS! We passed the toughest tests on Earth, like "Advanced Treat Theory" and "Boop Logistics" worth. We breach a room with flawless art, unless we hear a crinkling bag—that stops the heart. Command once called: "Is the threat still here?" "Negative, sir. But the snack was near." When darkness falls and tensions peak, our scanners beep— (beep… beep… BEEP!) "Unknown object, glowing red," "Relax, Command. It's jam on bread." We saved the world nine times today, and fought a squeaky toy halfway. WRAFF Force, brave and bright, marching proudly through the night. No villain stands, no snack misplaced, we solve it all with discipline… and taste. goo-o-o-ood TREA-EA-EA-EETS! WRAFF Force—heroes of the pack, we never rest, we never slack. And as we march through dust and crunch, our battle cry is clear: "WHO DROPPED THE SNACK?" SNAAACK…