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At the end of the evening I decided to go upstairs and run through the crowd and scare the living daylights out of the little buggers before I went home. I sneaked in the front door and up the stairs and burst into the room screaming and running through those lovely children. The next thing I knew this mob of screaming, clawing, biting, hitting, kicking children started whaling on me unmercifully!!! There were no adults up there to help me or take control of the situation.
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If I had not had years of experience breaking up greyhound fights without hurting the dogs, I would have been forced to hurt those kids just to break free! When I finally extricated myself from the mob I took off running. The only part of my costume that was left on me was a piece around my neck and a piece around my waist. Just when I got to the top of the stairs one of the little bastards clotheslined me! I was dangling down the stairs and the only thing holding me up was a piece of material around my neck that was strangling me!
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I managed to twist my neck so that I broke free and promptly went thumping down the stairs to land at Sis' feet who was running to see what all the commotion was. At this point I thought the whole thing was hilarious and recounted the story of the kids trying to kill the ghost. We all had a good laugh. I wasn't laughing the next morning.
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I went to get out of bed and I couldn't. I mean I was physically unable to raise up and what little bit I did move put me in excruciating backstabbing pain. It took me about 20 minutes to roll out of bed. I had to crawl to a phone to call for help. When I told my boss I couldn't walk, he thought I had a sprained ankle or something. I had to explain to him that my legs were paralyzed and I had dragged myself in pain to the phone. He said he would be right over.
I managed to stand and get myself to the car before he got there. I drove myself to the hospital and when I went to get out of the car I couldn't stand up again. I pulled myself up by sheer strength of will and my arms only and was supporting myself between the door and the roof of the car when a man found me. He was kind enough to go into the hospital and get me a wheelchair and wheel me in.
Anyway it took 6 months of therapy and 2 years to get myself right again. The moral is "DON'T SCARE THE FUCK OUT OF LITTLE KIDS WITHOUT PROTECTION!!!"
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