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Horrid Henry Tricks the Tooth Fairy

Page 3

by Francesca Simon


  “No it isn’t!” shouted Henry.

  “I’m the guest,” shouted Margaret.“I get to choose.”

  “Give her the pirate plate, Henry,” said Dad.

  “It’s not fair,” said Henry, glaring at his plate decorated with little ducks.

  “She’s the guest,” said Mom.

  “So?” said Henry.Wasn’t there an ancient Greek who stretched all his guests on an iron bed if they were too short or lopped off their heads and feet if they were too long? That guy sure knew how to deal with horrible guests like Moody Margaret.

  “Yuck,” said Margaret, spitting out a mouthful of chicken.“You put salt on it!”

  “Only a little,” said Dad.

  “I never eat salt,” said Moody Margaret.“It’s not good for me.And I always have peas at my house.”

  “We’ll get some tomorrow,” said Mom.

  Peter lay asleep in the top bunk. Horrid Henry sat listening by the door. He’d scattered crumbs all over Margaret’s bed. He couldn’t wait to hear her scream.

  But there wasn’t a sound coming from Henry’s room, where Margaret the Invader lay. Henry couldn’t understand it.

  Sadly, he climbed into (oh, the shame of it) the bottom bunk.Then he screamed.

  His bed was filled with jam, crumbs, and something squishy squashy and horrible.

  “Go to sleep, Henry!” shouted Dad.

  That Margaret! He’d booby trap the room, cut up her doll’s clothes, paint her face purple…Henry smiled grimly. Oh yes, he’d show Moody Margaret.

  Mom and Dad sat in the living room watching TV.

  Moody Margaret appeared on the stairs.

  “I can’t sleep with that noise,” she said.

  Mom and Dad looked at each other.

  “We are watching very quietly, dear,” said Mom.

  “But I can’t sleep if there’s any noise in the house,” said Margaret.“I have very sensitive ears.”

  Mom turned off the TV and picked up her knitting needles.

  Click click click.

  Margaret reappeared.

  “I can’t sleep with that clicking noise,”

  she said.

  “All right,” said Mom. She sighed a little.

  “And it’s cold in my bedroom,” said Moody Margaret.

  Mom turned up the heat.

  Margaret reappeared.

  “Now it’s too hot,” said Moody Margaret.

  Dad turned down the heat.

  “My room smells funny,” said Margaret.

  “My bed is too hard,” said Margaret. “My room is too stuffy,” said Margaret.

  “My room is too light,” said Margaret.

  “Good night, Margaret,” said Mom.

  “How many more days is she staying?” said Dad.

  Mom looked at the calendar.

  “Only thirteen,” said Mom.

  Dad hid his face in his hands.

  “I don’t know if I can live that long,” said Dad.

  TOOTA TOOT. Mom blasted out of bed.

  TOOTA TOOT. Dad blasted out of bed.

  TOOTA TOOT.TOOTA TOOT. TOOTA TOOT TOOT TOOT. Henry and Peter blasted out of bed.

  Margaret marched down the hall, playing her trumpet.

  TOOTA TOOT.TOOTA TOOT.

  TOOTA TOOT TOOT TOOT TOOT.

  “Margaret, would you mind playing your trumpet a little later?” said Dad, clutching his ears.“It’s six o’clock in the morning.”

  “That’s when I wake up,” said Margaret.

  “Could you play a little more softly?” said Mom.

  “But I have to practice,” said Moody Margaret.

  The trumpet blared through the house.

  TOOT TOOT TOOT.

  Horrid Henry turned on his radio.

  BOOM BOOM BOOM.

  Margaret played her trumpet louder.

  TOOT! TOOT! TOOT!

  Henry blasted his radio as loud as he could.

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

  “Henry!” shrieked Mom.

  “Turn that down!” bellowed Dad.

  “Quiet!” screamed Margaret.“I can’t practice with all this noise.” She put down her trumpet.“And I’m hungry. Where’s my breakfast?”

  “We have breakfast at eight,” said Mom.

  “But I want breakfast now,” said Margaret.

  Mom had had enough.

  “No,” said Mom firmly.“We eat at eight.”

  Margaret opened her mouth and screamed. No one could scream as long, or as loud, as Moody Margaret.

  Her piercing screams echoed through the house.

  “All right,” said Mom. She knew when she was beaten.“We’ll eat now.”

  Henry’s diary.

  That night, when everyone was asleep, Horrid Henry crept into the living room and picked up the phone.

  “I’d like to leave a message,” he whispered.

  Bang bang bang bang bang.

  Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong! Henry sat up in bed.

  Someone was banging on the front door and ringing the bell.

  “Who could that be at this time of night?” yawned Mom.

  Dad peeked through the window then opened the door.

  “Where’s my baby?” shouted Margaret’s mom.

  “Where’s my baby?” shouted Margaret’s dad.

  “Upstairs,” said Mom.“Where else?” “What’s happened to her?” shrieked Margaret’s mom.

  “We got here as quick as we could!” shrieked Margaret’s dad.

  Mom and Dad looked at each other. What was going on?

  “She’s fine,” said Mom.

  Margaret’s mom and dad looked at each other.What was going on?

  “But the message said it was an emergency and to come at once,” said Margaret’s mom.

  “We cut short our vacation,” said Margaret’s dad.

  “What message?” said Mom.

  “What’s going on? I can’t sleep with all this noise,” said Moody Margaret.

  Margaret and her parents had gone home. “What a terrible mix-up,” said Mom.

  “Such a shame they cut short their vacation,” said Dad.

  “Still…” said Mom. She looked at Dad.

  “Hmmm,” said Dad.

  “You don’t think that Henry…” said Mom.

  “Not even Henry could do something so horrid,” said Dad.

  Mom frowned.

  “Henry!” said Mom.

  Henry continued sticking Peter’s stamps together.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you know anything about a message?”

  “Me?” said Henry.

  “You,” said Mom.

  “No,” said Henry.“It’s a mystery.”

  “That’s a lie, Henry,” said Perfect Peter.

  “Is not,” said Henry.

  “Is too,” said Peter.“I heard you on the phone.”

  Henry lunged at Peter. He was a mad bull charging the matador.

  “YOWWWWW,” shrieked Peter.

  Henry stopped. He was in for it now. No allowance for a year. No candy for ten years. No TV ever.

  Henry squared his shoulders and waited for his punishment.

  Dad put his feet up.

  “That was a terrible thing to do,” said Dad.

  Mom turned on the TV.

  “Go to your room,” said Mom.

  Henry bounced upstairs.Your room. Sweeter words were never spoken. “

  4

  HORRID HENRY’S NEW TEACHER

  Now Henry,” said Dad.“Today is the first day of school.A chance for a fresh start with a new teacher.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” scowled Horrid Henry.

  He hated the first day of school.Another year, another teacher to show who was boss. His first teacher, Miss Marvel, had run screaming from the classroom after two weeks. His next teacher, Mrs. Zip, had run screaming from the classroom after one day. Breaking in new teachers wasn’t easy, thought Henry, but someone had to do it.

  Dad got out a piece of paper and waved it.
r />   “Henry, I never want to read another report card like this again,” he said. “Why can’t your report cards be like Peter’s?”

  Henry started whistling.

  “Pay attention, Henry,” shouted Dad. “This is important. Look at this report card.”

  “What about my report card?” said Perfect Peter.

  Dad beamed.

  “Your report card was perfect, Peter,” said Dad.“Keep up the wonderful work.”

  Peter smiled proudly.

  “You’ll just have to try harder, Henry,” said Peter, smirking.

  Horrid Henry was a shark sinking his teeth into a drowning sailor.

  “OWWWW,” shrieked Peter. “Henry bit me!”

  “Don’t be horrid, Henry!” shouted Dad.“Or no TV for a week.”

  “I don’t care,” muttered Henry.When he became king he’d make it a law that parents, not children, had to go to school.

  Horrid Henry pushed and shoved his way into class and grabbed the seat next to Rude Ralph.

  “Nah nah ne nah nah, I’ve got a new football,” said Ralph.

  Henry didn’t have a football. He’d kicked his through Moody Margaret’s window.

  “Who cares?” said Horrid Henry.

  The classroom door slammed. It was Mr. Nerdon, the toughest, meanest, nastiest teacher in the school.

  “SILENCE!” he said, glaring at them with his bulging eyes.“I don’t want to hear a sound. I don’t even want to hear anyone breathe.”

  The class held its breath.

  “GOOD!” he growled.“I’m Mr. Nerdon.”

  Henry snorted.What a stupid name.

  “Nerd,” he whispered to Ralph.

  Rude Ralph giggled.

  “Nerdy Nerd,” whispered Horrid Henry, snickering.

  Mr. Nerdon walked up to Henry and jabbed his finger in his face.

  “Quiet, you horrible boy!” said Mr. Nerdon.“I’ve got my eye on you. Oh yes. I’ve heard about your other teachers. Bah! I’m made of stronger stuff.There will be no nonsense in my class.”

  We’ll see about that, thought Henry.

  “Our first math problems for the year are on the board. Now get to work,” ordered Mr. Nerdon.

  Horrid Henry had an idea.

  Quickly he scribbled a note to Ralph.

  Horrid Henry took a deep breath and went to work. He rolled up some paper, stuffed it in his mouth, and spat it out. The spitball whizzed through the air and pinged Mr. Nerdon on the back of his neck.

  Mr. Nerdon wheeled round.

  “You!” snapped Mr. Nerdon.“Don’t you mess with me!”

  “It wasn’t me!” said Henry.“It was Ralph.”

  “Liar!” said Mr. Nerdon.“Sit at the back of the class.”

  Horrid Henry moved his seat next to Clever Clare.

  “Move over, Henry!” hissed Clare. “You’re on my side of the desk.”

  Henry shoved her.

  “Move over yourself,” he hissed back.

  Then Horrid Henry reached over and broke Clare’s pencil.

  “Henry broke my pencil!” shrieked Clare.

  Mr. Nerdon moved Henry next to Weepy William.

  Henry pinched him.

  Mr. Nerdon moved Henry next to Tough Toby.

  Henry jiggled the desk.

  Mr. Nerdon moved Henry next to Lazy Linda.

  Henry scribbled all over her paper.

  Mr. Nerdon moved Henry next to Moody Margaret.

  Moody Margaret drew a line down the middle of the desk.

  “Cross that line, Henry, and you’re dead,” said Margaret under her breath.

  Henry looked up. Mr. Nerdon was writing spelling words on the board.

  Henry started to erase Margaret’s line.

  “Stop it, Henry,” said Mr. Nerdon, without turning round.

  Henry stopped.

  Mr. Nerdon continued writing.

  Henry pulled Margaret’s hair.

  Mr. Nerdon moved Henry next to Beefy Bert, the biggest boy in the class.

  Beefy Bert was chewing his pencil and trying to add 2 + 2 without much luck.

  Horrid Henry inched his chair onto Beefy Bert’s side of the desk.

  Bert ignored him.

  Henry poked him.

  Bert ignored him.

  Henry hit him.

  POW!

  The next thing Henry knew he was lying on the floor, looking up at the ceiling. Beefy Bert continued chewing his pencil.

  “What happened, Bert?” said Mr. Nerdon.

  “I dunno,” said Beefy Bert.

  “Get up off the floor, Henry!” said Mr. Nerdon. A faint smile appeared on the teacher’s slimy lips.

  “He hit me!” said Henry. He’d never felt such a punch in his life.

  “It was an accident,” said Mr. Nerdon. He smirked.“You’ll sit next to Bert from now on.”

  That’s it, thought Henry. Now it’s war.

  “How absurd, to be a nerdy bird,” said Horrid Henry behind Mr. Nerdon’s back.

  Slowly Mr. Nerdon turned and walked toward him. His hand was clenched into a fist.

  “Since you’re so good at rhyming,” said Mr. Nerdon.“Everyone write a poem. Now.”

  Henry slumped in his seat and groaned. A poem! Yuck! He hated poems. Even the word poem made him want to throw up.

  Horrid Henry caught Rude Ralph’s eye. Ralph was grinning and mouthing, “A dollar, a dollar!” at him.Time was running out. Despite Henry’s best efforts, Mr. Nerdon still hadn’t run screaming from the class. Henry would have to act fast to get that football.

  What horrible poem could he write? Horrid Henry smiled. Quickly he picked up his pencil and went to work.

  “Now, who’s my first victim?” said Mr. Nerdon. He looked around the room. “Susan! Read your poem.”

  Sour Susan stood up and read:

  “Bow wow

  Bow wow

  Woof woof woof

  I’m a dog, not a cat, so…

  SCAT!”

  “Not enough rhymes,” said Mr. Nerdon.“Next…” He looked round the room.“Graham!”

  Greedy Graham stood up and read:

  “Chocolate chocolate chocolate sweet,

  Cakes and doughnuts can’t be beat.

  Ice cream is my favorite treat

  With lots and lots of pie to eat!”

  “Too many rhymes,” said Mr. Nerdon. “Next…” He scowled at the class. Henry tried to look as if he didn’t want the teacher to call on him.

  “Henry!” snapped Mr. Nerdon.“Read your poem!”

  Horrid Henry stood up and read:

  “Pirates puke on stormy seas,

  Giants spew on top of trees.”

  Henry peeked at Mr. Nerdon. He looked pale. Henry continued to read:

  “Kings are sick in golden bowls,

  Dogs throw up on Dad’s casseroles.”

  Henry peeked again at Mr. Nerdon. He looked green.Any minute now, thought Henry, and he’ll be out of here screaming. He read on:

  “Babies love to make a mess,

  Down the front of Mom’s best dress.

  And what car ride would be complete,

  Without the stink of last night’s treat?”

  “That’s enough,” choked Mr. Nerdon.

  “Wait, I haven’t got to the good part,” said Horrid Henry.

  “I said that’s enough!” gasped Mr. Nerdon.“You fail.”

  He made a big black mark in his book.

  “I threw up on the boat!” shouted Greedy Graham.

  “I threw up on the plane!” shouted Sour Susan.

  “I threw up in the car!” shouted Dizzy Dave.

  “I said that’s enough!” ordered Mr. Nerdon. He glared at Horrid Henry. “Get out of here, all of you! It’s lunchtime.”

  Rats, thought Henry. Mr. Nerdon was one tough teacher.

  Rude Ralph grabbed him.

  “Ha ha, Henry,” said Ralph.“You lose. Gimme that dollar.”

  “No,” said Henry.“I’ve got until the end of lunch.”<
br />
  “You can’t do anything to him between now and then,” said Ralph.

  “Oh yeah?” said Henry.“Just watch me.”

  Then Henry had a wonderful, spectacular idea.This was it.The best plan he’d ever had. Someday someone would stick a plaque on the school wall celebrating Henry’s genius.There would be songs written about him. He’d probably even get a medal. But first things first. In order for his plan to work to perfection, he needed Peter.

  Perfect Peter was playing hopscotch with his friends Tidy Ted and Spotless Sam.

  “Hey Peter,” said Henry.“How would you like to be a real member of the Purple Hand?”

  The Purple Hand was Horrid Henry’s secret club. Peter had wanted to join for ages, but naturally Henry would never let him.

  Peter’s jaw dropped open.

  “Me?” said Peter.

  “Yes,” said Henry.“If you can pass the secret club test.”

  “What do I have to do?” said Peter eagerly.

  “It’s tricky,” said Henry.“And probably much too hard for you.”

  “Tell me, tell me,” said Peter.

  “All you have to do is lie down right there below that window and stay absolutely still.You can’t move until I tell you to.”

  “Why?” said Peter.

  “Because that’s the test,” said Henry.

  Perfect Peter thought for a moment.

  “Are you going to drop something on me?”

  “No,” said Henry.

  “OK,” said Peter. He lay down obediently.

  “And I need your shoes,” said Henry.

  “Why?” said Peter.

  Henry scowled.

  “Do you want to be in the secret club or not?” said Henry.

  “I do,” said Peter.

  “Then give me your shoes and be quiet,” said Henry.“I’ll be checking on you. If I see you moving one little bit, you can’t be in my club.”

  Peter gave Henry his sneakers, then lay still as a statue.

  Horrid Henry grabbed the shoes, then dashed up the stairs to his classroom.

  It was empty. Good.

  Horrid Henry went over to the window and opened it.Then he stood there, holding one of Peter’s shoes in each hand.

  Henry waited until he heard Mr. Nerdon’s footsteps.Then he went into action.

  “Help!” shouted Horrid Henry. “Help!”

  Mr. Nerdon entered. He saw Henry and glowered.

  “What are you doing here? Get out!”

 

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