In a heart-wrenching turn of events, Arizona’s blistering heat has become the unyielding backdrop for a newly formed band of “Desert Dreamers” — a group of raiders disillusioned by the harsh realities of life and the unrelenting sun. They trade in their hopes for cooler climates in favor of sunsets drenched in despair and the sweet taste of cactus water. For many of these esteemed raiders, past endeavors have gone "not-so-according to plan" as they embraced the dedication of becoming modern-day Robin Hoods, only to realize they were more akin to Robin's less competent cousin, Marvin Hood—who primarily steals BBQ sauce and has yet to donate anything, aside from his Netflix password. “Who knew stealing from the rich would be so…well, hot?” sighed Ralph “The Rooster” Rodriguez, the ringleader of this misfit crew. Donning a sun-bleached bandana and cargo shorts that have seen better days, The Rooster has recently rallied his band of outlaws to swap the highways of crime for the byways of Arizona. Their mission? To find the coolest spots to hang out and plot their next failings while sipping dog-water margaritas. “Who needs a lavish life of crime when we can rob the Arizona heat of our ambitions?” laughed Molly “The Mirage” Jones, who has swapped her ski mask for a wide-brimmed sun hat that boasts a wide array of fruit-like designs. “I mean, it’s not like we’ve stolen anything valuable, right? We’re just trying to steal a cool breeze instead!” Local residents are unimpressed with these ‘desperate’ bandits. Many have taken to social media to express their disdain for the raiders’ attempts at sanctuary. "It's too hot for crime and too hot for dreams. It's just…too hot," lamented Sarah Wang, a local who now refuses to leave her air-conditioned home unless absolutely necessary. “Honestly, if they want a good getaway, they should invest in a fan instead of bad decisions.” Despite their continued misadventures, the Desert Dreamers persist in their quest for coolness, bonding over their shared love for lukewarm seltzer and sad country songs. They’ve reportedly established a lordship over an abandoned trailer in the suburbs, declaring it a “desert oasis” that is, ironically, hotter than the sun itself. “I thought we’d find sanctuary here,” muttered Mike “Dusty” Fletcher, as he sweltered on the roof of their makeshift fortress, clutching a popsicle that had melted into oblivion. “Turns out, in Arizona, we just found a limited edition, instant regret experience.” As the sunset ignites the horizon into colors of lost hope, the Desert Dreamers continue to hatch plans that could rival the terrors of a heatwave, while the townsfolk prepare for an influx of raiders turned scorched sand dwellers. Only time will tell if these weary souls will find a way to cover their dreams in shade or if they’ll simply wither like the once-vibrant blooms of the desert that have learned the hard way — misery in Arizona is best served cold.