I've never been to 'The Pit of Despair' before. It's near to our house but Granpa Jack won't let anyone come-in case they catch some nasty disease.
'Must be gone tea-time now,' says Dexter, 'I'm starving.'
'You're always starving,' I say. 'I think you've got worms. Anyway, we're here now.'
We stare up at the big posh house. It is lighting up the cold night with lamps from the olden days and twinkling fairy lights. It looks like a royal Christmas grotto.
'Are you sure about this?' asks Dexter. 'I mean it looks alright, really.'
I look again at the address on the piece of paper.
'Yes, this is it-maybe it's scabby inside,' I say. 'You know, so it fools all those people who think they're sending their relatives to somewhere really nice, so they pay their money and then it's too late!'
'Maybe,' says Dexter and he's fiddling with his reindeer antlers.
'Let's listen out for the hounds-they'll try and kill you,' I remind him.
We listen hard. We hear something but it's not the hounds, more like hyenas.
'Hmm,' says Dexter, 'and maybe that noise we can hear is actually the evil cackling of the workers as they lock the old people in for the night.'
I nod but the music and laughter doesn't sound evil at all to my mind.
'Come on!' I say 'we'd better put our plan into action!'