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As the Editor-in-Chief of this newspaper, I absolutely demand that I have some action shots of Spiderman on my desk by 5 PM tomorrow. I don’t care who gets them; Spideman himself could send me a selfie! I really couldn’t care less. I JUST NEED THESE SHOTS! 

If I don’t see some absolutely brilliant pictures of that menace in red tights on my desk by tomorrow, I am oficially going to lose it. 

SERIOUSLY, guys, it’s NOT. THAT. HARD. He’s swinging around this city constantly. On my commute to work, I look out the windshield, boom! Spiderman! I walk to Starbucks for lunch, look up at a stoplight, boom! Spiderman! I sit down to a bowl of cereal in the morning, look out my window, BOOM! SPIDERMAN! 

He’s everywhere, people! This is a big office! Somebody here has got to know something. Someone find that Mary Jo lady, or whatever her name is – the one that he’s constantly making out with upside down. She’s got to know something! 

Or maybe SHE’S Spiderman! Spider-ception! Somebody write that down! 

No, wait, that doesn’t make sense; see I’m losing it already.