When I was at infant school, we had a fancy dress competition and my mum made me an octopus costume which was effectively like a huge painted toilet roll tube with foam legs hanging off the bottom of it.
Two problems to bear in mind: there were no earholes so I couldn't really hear what was going on around me, and there were no armholes so my arms were pressed rigid against my side.
There was a little stage erected in the playground and eventually they got around to awarding prizes for the best costume. When they called out the winner, I was half-sure they said octopus. I decided to wait and see if anyone else went up. When nobody did, I knew I'd won and started making my way up a ramp to the stage.
Unfortunately, in the time it took me to get there, the real winner had gone up; something I didn't notice until I was at the top of the ramp. Turning to get back down the ramp as quickly as possible, I lost my footing and, because I was in a huge toilet roll, I started rolling down the ramp.
I barrelled into a number of my classmates, knocking them to the floor. Having no free arms, I still couldn't get up myself. I didn't want to take off the costume and expose my identity so I rolled myself to the edge of the playground, knocking over about another dozen people on the way, then took off the costume and ran home.
The next day, everyone was talking about it. I told everyone that it had been my best friend in the octopus costume and to this day, nobody knows it was me. Unless you were at the same school as me, in which case I've just outed myself bigtime.