Sprinting through the Foothill Elementary playground as sophomores in our new Captain America and Power Ranger costumes, we were ready for the 15th Halloween adventure of our lives.

As we spotted our friends playing basketball and excitedly approached them, we noticed something in the corner of our eyes. Two teens, whose shadowed faces were unrecognizable, danced on the kindergarten building roof to Drake’s “Hotline Bling.”

In the distance, we also spotted an elderly woman, peering straight at the roof through a pair of industrial-grade binoculars.

After a couple minutes of playing hot lava monster with our group of friends, we watched as a pair of sheriff’s deputies slowly walked onto the school grounds. Not knowing what they were here for, we all continued playing without concern.

But they continued to walk toward us, and with each step we got more and more nervous.

“Hey, could you guys come here for a minute?” they said.

We froze, then nervously complied. In a matter of seconds, we found ourselves kneeling on the black concrete, our exciting Halloween romp across campus turning into an episode of “CSI.”

“That lady over there told us that she saw some of you guys dancing on the roof, is that true?” the deputies said.

We quickly glanced up at the dark, dancing figures, but they had vanished. Staring at the guns on the officers’ belts, we could feel our insides swelling up and my mind going blank. Neither of us had never been in such a terrifying situation before.

Slowly, the officers began asking for all of our names and addresses, ending his questioning session with a speech nothing less than memorable.

“Since none of you go to this school, you are … wait a minute,” he stopped, pointing at Roland and asked, “Do you go to this school?”

As everyone around us started laughing, including the elderly woman herself, the officer came to realize that Roland was not an elementary schooler, but just a height-challenged high school sophomore.

Seeing Roland’s embarrassment, he graciously released us without any consequences. The next day, we discovered that those dancing figures were two of our close friends when we overheard them telling the story at school. We also found out that karma got them back, as their trick-or-treating endeavors ended in the greatest stomachaches of all time.