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school and Mrs Dent was in her usual place in front of the TV watching Dr Clint’s Trailer Trash Special and Mr Dent was still asleep in bed, Rambo the poodle went to sleep in Dickie’s bed. Rambo fell asleep and dreamt of the days when he’d been a puppy with all his brothers and sisters. Life had been good then, those first three months. Then he had gone to live with the Dents and it had all been downhill after that. After all those years of being chained up in a wrecked car, it was so warm and cosy in Dickie’s bed – much too comfortable to get out of bed and go outside when he needed to go to the toilet.
    So it doesn’t take much imagination to guesswhat Dickie Dent stuck his bare feet in when he got into bed that night. He didn’t realise what it was straightaway. He wriggled his feet around so it went between his toes, and then the smell drifted out of the covers and hit him. At first he thought it was his mother’s cooking – it wouldn’t have been the first time his sister had played that trick on him – but then he realised.
    â€˜Mummmm,’ he cried, but Mrs Dent had just switched channels to watch Big Brother Special Shock Edition , where some brain cells had been discovered in one of the contestants, and the viewers had to guess who they belonged to.
    â€˜It’s them Floods’ fault,’ Dickie muttered. ‘If they hadn’t done that to Rambo …’
    Dickie had always been scared out of his wits by Rambo when the dog had been a rottweiler. When he had been a baby, his dad had held him up inches away from the ferocious dog’s drooling fangs, but Rambo had still been their dog and turning him into a girlie-pink poodle and making him wet Dickie’s bed made him want revenge. He decided he wouldwait until the Floods went out, and then go into their house and get his own back.
    But as well as being a mean and nasty little boy, Dickie Dent was also very, very stupid. He was too stupid to realise that the last place on Earth you should break into was a house that belonged to a family of witches and wizards. So he waited until he saw the family leave the house for their evening walk in the local graveyard, then he kicked a hole in the fence and crawled through it and squeezed under the hedge into the Floods’ back yard. The back door was unlocked so he slipped inside.
    Part of Dickie’s being very, very stupid was the fact that he couldn’t count. When he had seen the Floods go out he hadn’t made sure all nine of them were there. What made him very, very, very stupid was that the Flood who wasn’t there was the one he actually went to school with.
    The house felt creepy. The air was cold and damp, even though outside it was a warm summer’s day. There weren’t any chip wrappers or half-eaten burgers with mould on them like in his own kitchen.The whole place smelled horrible.
    It smelled clean.
    Right , Dickie thought, time for revenge .
    He walked over to the kitchen drawers, pulled the bottom one open and dropped his trousers.

    But he was not alone. As he began to concentrate and grit his teeth, Betty tiptoed downstairs. Dickieclosed his eyes tight and began to strain. Betty had been up in her room doing her homework and had heard Dickie kicking the fence. Now, just as he was about to poo in the kitchen drawer, she made his feet give way beneath him. As Dickie fell, he grabbed hold of the nearest thing – his trousers – and pulled them up. At the last moment he realised what had happened, but he had gone too far to stop and sat down with a terrible squelch.
    â€˜Hello, Dickie,’ said Betty. ‘Looks like the icky bubba has pooed his pants.’
    The lid flew off a jar of frogs’ eyes in fish oil on the draining board and it tipped itself over Dickie’s head.
    â€˜You are a clumsy little boy, aren’t you?’ laughed Betty as the breakfast creatures that had been hiding under the