I set off some spooky speak the other day by asking some pals: “Does anyone know if we’re still having trick or treating?”

I unwittingly sparked a controversial candy convo in zero flat, as in the Zoom glares zapped my way were anything but Zen, ya dig?

Suddenly, it was:

“Of course there’s trick-or-treating!”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Why would they cancel it when the kids are already together in school?”

“Wait, what? I don’t necessarily think they should…” I started to reply, to no avail.

“I’m sorry but you’re WRONG, Patty! There SHOULD be trick-or-treating. Period!”

They cut me off faster than “Leatherface” slices apart victims’ appendages in the “Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

I’m telling you, that whole discourse was more dire than solo strolling in the woods at midnight at Camp Crystal Lake, capisce?

Shudder.

Man, did I ever start a feud. The battle raged like an autumn bonfire, yo — folks weighing on all sides.

Sheesh! All I was trying to do was mentally make my grocery list? Let’s see — TP, dog food, Lysol wipes, chicken breasts, and oh, that’s right, 8,492 bags of M&Ms. We get a lot of little goblins and ghouls at my ‘hood, yo.

In fact, our little zombie zone goes ALL out for Halloween. First, there are those folks at the top of the development who are, frankly, fright fanatics. They line both sides of their driveway with life-size mannequins of movie murderers including, but not limited to:

• Freddy Krueger (“Nightmare on Elm Street” sleep-time slayer);

• Jason Voorhees (“Friday the 13th” serial slaughterer);

• Pennywise (the laughin’ assassin from “It”);

• Hannibal Lecter (cannibalistic crackpot from “Silence of the Lambs”);

• Michael Myers (people predator from the anthology of, you guessed it, “Halloween”).

Simultaneously, they conduct a blaring sicko symphony of macabre music, laser out strobing black, orange and purple lightshows, and ooze a dried-ice-induced fog out into their front yard — which is dotted by gravestones, oversized tarantulas, and bloodied, battered faux human hands seemingly clawing their way out of early graves after being buried alive.

They’ve got a coffin propped up way in the back in the garage — some years, the male homeowner dresses as Dracula and lies inside of it, waiting to terrify passersby. Demons and monsters and ogres need not apply; they’re already on the payroll. I’m pretty sure the “Tell-Tale Heart” is actually tucked within the floorboards of their dining room.

Blech.

Have I mentioned how much I loathe the evil aspect of Halloween lately? Yes, people, you’re right. Why should we deprive unleashing all of that on our wee ones?

Gulp; I can’t believe I’m about to say this but, why, indeed?

If we can find some pandemic-proof way to pull it off, that is, I must admit, I’d hate for one of the very funnest of all the kid days to be yanked out from under them. They’ve missed so much already.

Poor little honeys certainly have had childhood interruptus courtesy of you-know-what.

Shoot, 2020 is pretty much a scare-fest in total anyway, why not at least let the children have some candy to take the edge off a bit?

So, here’s hoping there’s a secure but sweet answer for the kiddos by All Hallows’ Eve.

And that my neighbors’ power goes out from 5 p.m. Oct. 31 until the raven, er, rooster crows at daylight Nov. 1.

Kimerer is a columnist who hates Halloween creepiness but loves lighting up tiny faces with Reese’s cups and Twizzlers and Kit Kats, oh my! Check out her sweet blog www.patriciakimerer.com.