Ninja camp.
Neighborhood kids decided to set up a bunch of booby traps in a vacant lot in the subdivision (Murcoland, holla!) Fishing wire trip line, dug a hole and covered it with cardboard and a little sand, chopped a small tree almost all the way through so a good shove could drop it on someone, that kind of stuff. None of the regular gang was fooled by any of them, mostly because we all helped make it.
However, there was a slightly younger kid visiting his grandparents from out of town. That kid hit every one. The final scene in the ninja camp saga was when he walked under the tree where we had a metal gallon bucket at least half full of dirt with a rope tied to the handle, thrown over a high branch and up at least 20 feet. Yours truly was holding the rope. Teenager me didn’t realize I could kill this kid until just after I let go of the rope. I was able to slow it down a bit, which limited the damage to a few stitches and a knot on his noggin. I’m lucky I didn’t give him a TBI.
Don’t even remember the kid’s name. So dude, if you’re out there, sorry about the head wound!