The Real Mischief maker

He walked the quiet neighborhood looking for 32.
"32? 32? 25... I must be getting close," he thought out loud.
He found the house with no problems. The lights weren't even on. Don't they know it's the night before Halloween? It's mischief night. Time to have the real parties.
five years ago this night, Joey had watched his family burned alive in front of this house as he escaped unharmed by launching through the windshield of the car. He'd laid there on the road as he'd seen the car come out of the driveway at top speed and hit the side of his father's car. The impact had shattered the gas cap and let a spark into the fuel tank. They never had a chance.
He lit the tip of a cigarette and looked at the toilet paper as he began to drench it in gasoline. The soap even came off the windows as Joey covered it with gas.
In his haste, He forgot he had the cigarette lit.
He poured the last bit of it onto the welcome mat.
"Welcome home. Halloween parties are meant to stay in the house anyway. Just like you in this fire."
A small bit of ash fell from his cigarette and caught the mat on fire. His legs, covered in gas caught on fire as well.
He laughed hysterically as he walked away, still puffing on the dwindling cigarette that burned rapidly in the lapping flames that ate his body. As he sat down on the curb only his bones were left and thus the dead "Thinker" sat in front of the house, burned to death, that finally claimed the life it missed five years before with its own death.