This is a source of parody, satire, and humor and is for entertainment purposes only, published for the week of April Fools. Said posts or stories may or may not use real names, always in semi-real and/or mostly, or substantially, fictitious ways. As the purpose of said stories is to entertain and amuse and not to disparage any persons, or institutions, in any way and no malice is intended toward anyone or anything, nor should any be construed from the satirically based stories and fake news items.  This is not a source of facts or real information. That means all items or stories published for Issue 20 of The Torch are fictitious.

By Tobey Maguire, Staff Writer

Won’t somebody, anyone come to my aid? I made a mistake, see the mess I’ve made?

I was cooking a fish on a grill in my room, when all of a sudden it fell, and boom!

The grill fell over, the charcoals rolled out, and it was all ruined, including the trout.

But then, flames leapt up! Up onto my curtains! “This won’t be good,” I said, “I’m certain!”

My Spiderman 2 poster burned to the floor, and slowly but surely the fire reached the door.

I knew must save my paraphernalia, including my map of Southern Australia.

I grabbed the original Great Gatsby script, and its poster where from a martini I sipped.

I didn’t forget my signed photo of Leo, or my Matrix fanfiction where I got to be Neo.

I rescued my Blu-Ray of Spiderman 3; it’s too bad Venom was handled suboptimally.

I couldn’t forget my Teen Choice Awards, for playing as Spiderman without riding skateboards. (Yeah, that’s right at you, Andrew Garfield. Why would you put a skateboarding montage in your Spider-man film? Peter Parker’s a nerd, not a hip white kid from the 90’s. You look like a prick. God.)

“I’ll miss you!” I said to my black and white cat. I couldn’t grab her, there was no time for that.

Through the flames I jumped with my box of merch, and I was about to jump from my balcony’s perch

When I thought, “Oh wait! I can stop this fire! The current situation must not be so dire!”

I sprinted outside and turned the garden hose on, then pointed it at my room instead of the lawn.

But alas! The water pressure was much too low! It dribbled out limply, soaking my toes.

Then I looked in the windows, and noticed the flames. They’d left my bedroom, and weren’t playin no games.

They’d burned down the halls and scorched down each stair; it wouldn’t be long until all was ash in there.

It reminded me of Spiderman, specifically the scene where I caused an explosion and killed the Goblin green.

“Ugh,” I told myself, “I guess I’ll call the police. It’s the coward’s way out, but I could live in peace.”

Then I reached for my pocket, and what did I find? I left my phone in my bedroom, dammit, I’m blind.

This is where fate now leaves me, my friends. My house is on fire, this could be the end.

My very last hope is to write to The Torch, so someone could save my house and my porch.

It’s Tobey Maguire, your favorite guy from Seabiscuit. Why not try saving me, it’s worth it to risk it!

I could sign you an autograph, worth about 60 bucks. Just bring me some water, please, my life sucks.

My house has nearly burnt its way to the ground. I’ll have nowhere to live, I’ll be hotel bound.

I blew all my Spiderman money on weed. Please pity my sadness, and do a good deed.

My house is on 55 Tom Holland Ave. Bring a fire truck, and all the hoses you have.

Photo Courtesy: Getty Images