I was a ghost at a friends Halloween party for her daughter. There were at least 50 kids there who were aged from infant to 12 years old. I spent the night running around the outside of the house appearing at windows and doorways and hiding before the kids could find me. (I was a very effective ghost!)
At the end of the evening I decided to go upstairs and run through the crowd and scare the living daylights out of them 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.
If I had not had years of experience breaking up greyhound fights without hurting them, I would have been forced to hurt those little darlings 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 bastard's 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!
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. However I wasn't laughing the next morning.
I went to get out of bed and I couldn't. I mean to say 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. (and I mean roll out of bed and plop soundly on the floor) 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 by pulling myself up by the side of the couch and I staggered, holding anything that was available, to the car before he got there. I drove myself to the hospital. When I went to get out of the car I couldn't stand up again. I pulled myself up by sheer strength of will by 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 FOR YOURSELF!!!"