Horrid Henry and the Abominable Snowman

by Francesca Simon

  She caught sight of Soraya and Kate.

  “AAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHH!”

  screeched Mom. “Henry! How could you be so horrid? Go to your room.”

  “But…but…” gasped Horrid Henry. It was so unfair. Was it his fault his stupid customers didn’t know when they looked great?

  Henry stomped up the stairs. Then he sighed. Maybe he did need a little more makeover practice before he opened for business.

  Now, where could he find someone to practice on?

  “I got an A on my spelling test,” said Perfect Peter.

  “I got a gold star for having the tidiest desk,” said Tidy Ted.

  “And I got in the Good as Gold book again,” said Goody-Goody Gordon.

  Henry burst into Peter’s bedroom.

  “I’m doing makeovers,” said Horrid Henry. “Who wants to go first?”

  “Ummm,” said Peter.

  “Ummm,” said Ted.

  “We’re going to Sam’s birthday party today,” said Gordon.

  “Even better,” said Henry beaming. “I can make you look great for the party. Who’s first?”

  Horrid Henry woke up. He felt strange. He felt…happy. He felt…excited. But why?

  Was it the weekend? No. Was it a day off school? No. Had Miss Battle-Axe been kidnapped by aliens and transported to another galaxy to slave in the salt mines? No (unfortunately).

  So why was he feeling so excited on a school day?

  And then Horrid Henry remembered.

  Oh wow!! It was Book Week at Henry’s school, and his favorite author in the whole world, TJ Fizz, the writer of the stupendous Ghost Quest and Mad Machines and Skeleton Skunks, was coming to talk to his class. Henry had read every single one of TJ’s brilliant books, even after lights out. Rude Ralph thought they were almost as good as Mutant Max comics. Horrid Henry thought they were even better.

  Perfect Peter bounced into his room.

  “Isn’t it exciting, Henry?” said Perfect Peter. “Our class is going to meet a real live author! Milksop Miles is coming today. He’s the man who wrote The Happy Nappy. Do you think he’ll sign my copy?”

  Horrid Henry snorted.

  The Happy Nappy! Only the dumbest book ever. All those giant diapers with names like Rappy Nappy and Zappy Nappy and Tappy Nappy dancing and prancing around. And then the truly

  horrible Gappy Nappy, who was always wailing, “I’m leaking!”

  Horrid Henry shuddered. He was amazed that Milksop Miles dared to show his face after writing such a boring book.

  “Only a wormy toad like you could like such a stupid story,” said Henry.

  “It’s not stupid,” said Peter.

  “Is too.”

  “Is not. And he’s bringing his guitar. Miss Lovely said so.”

  “Big deal,” said Horrid Henry. “We’ve got TJ Fizz.”

  Perfect Peter shuddered.

  “Her books are too scary,” said Peter.

  “That’s ’cause you’re a baby.”

  “Mom!” shrieked Peter. “Henry called me baby.”

  “Tattletale,” hissed Henry.

  “Don’t be horrid, Henry,” shouted Mom.

  Horrid Henry sat in class with a huge tote bag filled with all his TJ Fizz books. Everyone in the class had drawn book covers for Ghost Quest and Ghouls’ Jewels, and written their own Skeleton Skunk story. Henry’s of course was the best: Skeleton Skunk Meets Terminator Gladiator: May the Smelliest Fighter Win! He would give it to TJ Fizz if she paid him a million dollars.

  Ten minutes to go. How could he live until it was time for her to arrive?

  Miss Battle-Axe cleared her throat.

  “Class, we have a very important guest coming. I know you’re all very excited, but I will not tolerate anything but perfect behavior today. Anyone who misbehaves will be sent out. Is that clear?” She glared at Henry.

  Henry scowled back. Of course he would be perfect. TJ Fizz was coming!

  “Has everyone thought of a good question to ask her? I’ll write the best ones on the board,” continued Miss Battle-Axe.

  “How much money do you make?” shouted Rude Ralph.

  “How many TVs do you have?” shouted Horrid Henry.

  “Do you like fudge?” shouted Greedy Graham.

  “I said good questions,” snapped Miss Battle-Axe. “Bert, what’s your question for TJ Fizz?”

  “I dunno,” said Beefy Bert.

  Rumble.

  Rumble.

  Rumble.

  Ooops. Henry’s tummy was telling him it was snack time.

  It must be all the excitement. It was strictly forbidden to eat in class, but Henry was a master sneaker. He certainly wouldn’t want his tummy to gurgle while TJ Fizz was talking.

  Miss Battle-Axe was writing down Clever Clare’s eight questions on the board.

  Slowly, carefully, silently, Horrid Henry opened his lunch box under the table. Slowly, carefully, silently, he eased open the bag of chips.

  Horrid Henry looked to the left.

  Rude Ralph was waving his hand in the air.

  Horrid Henry looked to the right.

  Greedy Graham was drooling and opening a bag of candy.

  The coast was clear. Henry popped some Super Spicy Hedgehog chips into his mouth.

  MUNCH!

  CRUNCH!

  “C’mon Henry, give me some chips,” whispered Rude Ralph.

  “No,” hissed Horrid Henry. “Eat your own.”

  “I’m starving,” moaned Greedy Graham. “Gimme a chip.”

  “No!” hissed Horrid Henry.

  MUNCH

  CRUNCH!

  YANK

  Huh?

  Miss Battle-Axe towered over him, holding his bag of chips in the air. Her red eyes were like two icy daggers.

  “What did I tell you, Henry?” said Miss Battle-Axe. “No bad behavior would be tolerated. Go to Miss Lovely’s class.”

  “But…but…TJ Fizz is coming!” spluttered Horrid Henry. “I was just—”

  Miss Battle-Axe pointed to the door.

  “Out!”

  “NOOOOOOOOOO!” howled Henry.

  Horrid Henry sat in a tiny chair at the back of Miss Lovely’s room. Never had he suffered such torment. He tried to block his ears as Milksop Miles read his horrible book to Peter’s class.

  “Hello, Happy, Clappy, and Yappy! Can you find the leak?”

  “No,” said Happy.

  “No,” said Clappy.

  “No,” said Yappy.

  “I can,” said Gappy Nappy.

  AAAARRRRGGGGGHHH! Horrid Henry gritted his teeth. He would go crazy having to listen to this a moment longer.

  He had to get out of here.

  “All together now, let’s sing the ‘Happy Nappy Song,’” trilled Milksop Miles, whipping out his guitar.

  “Yay!” cheered the infants.

  No, groaned Horrid Henry.

  Oh I’m a happy nappy,

  a happy zappy nappy

  I wrap up your bottom, snug and tight,

  And keep you dry all through the night

  Oh—

  This was torture. No, this was worse than torture. How could he sit here listening to the horrible “Happy Nappy Song” knowing that just above him TJ Fizz was reading from one of her incredible books, passing around the famous skunk skeleton, and showing off her Ghost Quest drawings? He had to get back to his own class. He had to.

  But how?

  What if he joined in the singing? He could bellow:

  Oh I’m a soggy nappy

  A smelly, stinky nappy—

  Yes! That would certainly get him sent out the door straight to—the principal. Not back to his class and TJ Fizz.

  Horrid Henry closed
his mouth. Rats.

  Maybe there’d be an earthquake? A power failure? Where was a fire drill when you needed one?

  He could always pretend he needed to use the restroom. But then when he didn’t come back, they’d come looking for him.

  Or maybe he could just sneak away? Why not? Henry got to his feet and began to slide toward the door, trying to be invisible.

  Sneak

  Sneak

  Sn—

  “Whooa, come back here, little boy,” shouted Milksop Miles, twanging his guitar. Henry froze. “Our party is just starting. Now who knows the Happy Nappy Dance?”

  “I do,” said Perfect Peter.

  “I do,” said Goody-Goody Gordon.

  “We all do,” said Tidy Ted.

  “Everyone on their feet,” said Milksop Miles. “Ah-one, ah-two, let’s all do the Nappy Dance!”

  “Nap nap nap nap nap nap nappy,” warbled Miles.

  “Nap nap nap nap nap nap nappy,” warbled Peter’s class, dancing away.

  Desperate times call for desperate measures. Horrid Henry started dancing. Slowly, he tapped his way closer and closer and closer to the door and—freedom!

  Horrid Henry reached for the door knob. Miss Lovely was busy dancing in the corner. Just a few more steps…

  “Who’s going to be my little helper while we act out the story?” beamed Miles. “Who would like to play the Happy Nappy?”

  “Me! Me!” squealed Miss Lovely’s class.

  Horrid Henry sank against the wall.

  “Come on, don’t be shy,” said Miles, pointing straight at Henry. “Come on up and put on the magic happy nappy!” And he marched over and dangled an enormous blue diaper in front of Henry. It was over one yard wide and one yard high, with a hideous smiling face and big goggly eyes.

  Horrid Henry took a step back. He felt faint. The giant diaper was looming above him. In a moment it would be over his head and he’d be trapped inside. His name would be mud—forever. Henry the nappy. Henry the giant nappy. Henry the giant happy nappy… “AAAARRRRGGGGGHHH!” screamed Horrid Henry. “Get away from me!”

  Milksop Miles stopped waving the gigantic diaper.

  “Oh dear,” he said.

  “Oh dear,” said Miss Lovely.

  “Don’t be scared,” said Miles.

  Scared? Horrid Henry…scared? Of a giant diaper? Henry opened his mouth to scream.

  And then he stopped.

  What if…?

  “Help! Help! I’m being attacked by a diaper!” screeched Henry. “HELLLLLLLP!”

  Milksop Miles looked at Miss Lovely. Miss Lovely looked at Milksop Miles.

  “HELLLLLLLP! HELLLLLLLP!”

  “Henry? Are you OK?” piped Perfect Peter.

  “NOOOOOOOO!” wailed Horrid Henry, cowering. “I’m…I’m…diaper-phobic.”

  “Never mind,” said Milksop Miles. “You’re not the first boy who’s been scared of a giant diaper.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine if I go back to my own class,” gasped Horrid Henry.

  Miss Lovely hesitated. Horrid Henry opened his mouth to howl—

  “Run along then,” said Miss Lovely quickly.

  Horrid Henry did not wait to be told twice.

  He raced out of Miss Lovely’s class, then dashed upstairs to his own.

  Skeleton Skunk here I come, thought Henry, bursting through the door.

  There was the great and glorious TJ Fizz, just about to start reading a brand new chapter from her latest book, Skeleton Stinkbomb. Hallelujah, he was in time.

  “Henry, what are you doing here?” hissed Miss Battle-Axe.

  “Miss Lovely sent me back,” beamed Horrid Henry. “And you did say we should be on our best behavior today, so I did what I was told.”

  Henry sat down as TJ began to read. The story was amazing.

  Ahhh, sighed Horrid Henry happily, wasn’t life grand?

  About the Author

  Photo: Francesco Guidicini

  Francesca Simon spent her childhood on the beach in California and then went to Yale and Oxford Universities to study medieval history and literature. She now lives in London with her family. She has written over forty-five books and won the Children’s Book of the Year in 2008 at the Galaxy British Book Awards for Horrid Henry and the Abominable Snowman.