Francesca Simon

by Horrid Henry

  “What will happen?” asked Horrid Henry eagerly.

  Miss Tutu stood very tall. She took a long, bony finger and dragged it slowly across her throat.

  Henry decided that he would rather live to do battle another day. He stood on the side, gnashing his teeth, pretending he was an enormous crocodile about to gobble up Miss Tutu.

  “This is our final rehearsal before the show,” barked Miss Tutu.

  “Everything must be perfect.”

  Eleven faces stared at Miss Tutu. One face scowled at the floor.

  “Tomatoes and beans to the front,” ordered Miss Tutu.

  “When Miss Thumper plays the music everyone will stretch out their arms to the sky to kiss the morning hello. Raindrops, stand at the back next to the giant green leaves and wait until the beans find the magic bananas.And Henry,” spat Miss Tutu, glaring. “TRY to get it right.”

  “Positions, everybody. Miss Thumper, the opening music please!” shouted Miss Tutu.

  Miss Thumper banged away.

  The tomatoes weaved in and out, twirling.

  The beans pirouetted.

  The bananas pointed their toes and swayed.

  The raindrops pitter-patted.

  All except one. Henry waved his arms frantically and raced around the room.Then he crashed into the beans.

  “HENRY!” screeched Miss Tutu.

  “Yeah,” scowled Henry.

  “Sit in the corner!”

  Henry was delighted. He sat in the corner and made horrible rude faces while Peter did his raindrop solo.

  Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap.Tappa tappa tappa tappa tap tap tap.Tappa tip tappa tip tappa tappa tappa tip.

  “Was that perfect, Miss Tutu?” asked Peter.

  Miss Tutu sighed. “Perfect, Peter, as always,” she said, and the corner of her mouth trembled slightly.This was the closest Miss Tutu ever came to smiling.

  Then she saw Henry slouching on the chair. Her mouth drooped back into its normal grim position.

  Miss Tutu tugged Henry off the chair. She shoved him to the very back of the stage, behind the other raindrops.Then she pushed him behind a giant green leaf.

  “Stand there!” shouted Miss Tutu.

  “But no one will see me here,” said Henry.

  “Precisely,” said Miss Tutu.

  It was showtime.

  The curtain was about to rise.

  The children stood quietly on stage.

  Perfect Peter was so excited he almost bounced up and down. Naturally he controlled himself and stood still.

  Horrid Henry was not very excited.

  He did not want to be a raindrop.

  And he certainly did not want to be a raindrop who danced behind a giant green leaf.

  Miss Thumper waddled over to the piano. She banged on the keys.

  The curtain went up.

  Henry’s mom and dad were in the audience with the other parents.As usual they sat in the back row in case they had to make a quick getaway.

  They smiled and waved at Peter standing proudly at the front.

  “Can you see Henry?” whispered Henry’s mom.

  Henry’s dad squinted at the stage.

  A tuft of red hair stuck up behind the green leaf.

  “I think that’s him behind the leaf,” said his father doubtfully.

  “I wonder why Henry is hiding,” said Mom. “It’s not like him to be shy.”

  “Hmmmm,” said Dad.

  “Shhh,” hissed the parents beside them.

  Henry watched the tomatoes and beans searching on tiptoe for the magic bananas.

  I’m not staying back here, he thought, and pushed his way through the raindrops.

  “Stop pushing, Henry!” hissed Lazy Linda.

  Henry pushed harder, then did a few pitter-pats with the other raindrops.

  Miss Tutu stretched out a bony arm and yanked Henry back behind the scenery.

  Who wants to be a raindrop anyway, thought Henry. I can do what I like hidden here.

  The tomatoes weaved in and out, twirling.

  The beans pirouetted.

  The bananas pointed their toes and swayed.

  The raindrops pitter-patted.

  Henry flapped his arms and pretended he was a pterodactyl about to pounce on Miss Tutu.

  Round and round he flew, homing in on his prey.

  Perfect Peter stepped to the front and began his solo.

  Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap—CRASH!

  One giant green leaf fell on top of the raindrops, knocking them over.

  The raindrops collided with the tomatoes.

  The tomatoes smashed into the string beans.

  The string beans bumped into the bananas.

  Perfect Peter turned his head to see what was happening and danced off the stage into the front row.

  Miss Tutu fainted.

  The only person still standing on stage was Henry.

  Stomp Stomp Stomp Stomp Stomp Stomp Stomp.

  Henry did his elephant dance.

  Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom.

  Henry did his wild buffalo dance.

  Peter tried to scramble back on stage.

  The curtain fell.

  There was a long silence, then Henry’s parents clapped.

  No one else did, so Henry’s parents stopped.

  All the other parents ran up to Miss Tutu and started shouting.

  “I don’t see why that horrid boy should have had such a long solo while all Linda did was lie on the floor,” yelled one mother.

  “My Jeffrey is a much better dancer than that boy,” shouted another. “He should have done the solo.”

  “I didn’t know you taught modern dance, Miss Tutu,” said Violet’s mother. “Come,Violet,” she added, sweeping from the room.

  “HENRY!!” screeched Miss Tutu. “Leave my dance studio at once!”

  “Whoopee!” shouted Henry. He knew that next Saturday he would be at karate class at last.

  3

  HORRID HENRY AND MOODY MARGARET

  “I’m Captain Hook!”

  “No, I’m Captain Hook!”

  “I’m Captain Hook,” said Horrid

  Henry.

  “I’m Captain Hook,” said Moody Margaret.

  They glared at each other.

  “It’s my hook,” said Moody Margaret.

  Moody Margaret lived next door. She did not like Horrid Henry, and Horrid Henry did not like her. But when Rude Ralph was busy, Clever Clare had the flu, and Sour Susan was her enemy, Margaret would jump over the wall to play with Henry.

  “Actually,it’s my turn to be Hook now,” said Perfect Peter. “I’ve been the prisoner for such a long time.”

  “Prisoner, be quiet!” said Henry.

  “Prisoner, walk the plank!” said Margaret.

  “But I’ve walked it fourteen times already,” said Peter. “Please can I be Hook now?”

  “No, by thunder!” said Moody Margaret. “Now out of my way,

  worm!”And she swashbuckled across the deck, waving her hook and clutching her sword and dagger.

  Margaret had eye patches and skulls and crossbones and plumed hats and cutlasses and sabers and snickersnees.

  Henry had a stick.

  This was why Henry played with Margaret.

  But Henry had to do terrible things before playing with Margaret’s swords. Sometimes he had to sit and wait while she read a book.

  Sometimes he had to play “Moms and Dads” with her.Worst of all (please don’t tell anyone), sometimes he had to be the baby.

  Henry never knew what Margaret would do.

  When he put a spider on her arm, Margaret laughed.

  When he pulled her hair, Margaret pulled his harder.

  When Henry screamed, Margaret would scream louder. Or she would sing. Or pretend not to hear.

  Sometimes Margaret was fun. But most of the time she was a moody old grouch.

  “I won’t play if I can’t be Hook,” said Horrid Henry.

  Margaret thought for a m
oment.

  “We can both be Captain Hook,” she said.

  “But we only have one hook,” said Henry.

  “Which I haven’t played with yet,” said Peter.

  “BE QUIET, prisoner!” shouted Margaret. “Mr. Smee, take him to jail.”

  “No,” said Henry.

  “You will get your reward, Mr.Smee,” said the Captain, waving her hook.

  Mr. Smee dragged the prisoner to the jail.

  “If you’re very quiet, prisoner, then you will be freed and you can be a pirate, too,” said Captain Hook.

  “Now give me the hook,” said Mr.Smee.

  The Captain reluctantly handed it over.

  “Now I’m Captain Hook and you’re Mr. Smee,” shouted Henry. “I order everyone to walk the plank!”

  “I’m sick of playing pirates,” said Margaret. “Let’s play something else.”

  Henry was furious.That was just like Moody Margaret.

  “Well, I’m playing pirates,” said Henry.

  “Well I’m not,” said Margaret.

  “Give me back my hook.”

  “No,” said Henry.

  Moody Margaret opened her mouth and screamed. Once Margaret started screaming she could go on and on and on.

  Henry gave her the hook.

  Margaret smiled.

  “I’m hungry,” she said. “Got anything good to eat?”

  Henry had three bags of chips and seven chocolate cookies hidden in his

  room, but he certainly wasn’t going to share them with Margaret.

  “You can have a radish,” said Henry.

  “What else?” said Margaret.

  “A carrot,” said Henry.

  “What else?” said Margaret.

  “Glop,” said Henry.

  “What’s Glop?”

  “Something special that only I can make,” said Henry.

  “What’s in it?” asked Margaret.

  “That’s a secret,” said Henry.

  “I bet it’s yucky,” said Margaret.

  “Of course it’s yucky,” said Henry.

  “I can make the yuckiest Glop of all,” said Margaret.

  “That’s because you don’t know anything. No one can make yuckier Glop than I can.”

  “I dare you to eat Glop,” said Margaret.

  “I double dare you back,” said Henry. “Dares go first.”

  Margaret stood up very straight.

  “All right,” said Margaret. “Glop starts with snails and worms.”

  And she started poking under the bushes.

  “Got one!” she shouted, holding up a fat snail.

  “Now for some worms,” said Margaret.

  She got down on her hands and knees and started digging a hole.

  “You can’t put anything from outside into Glop,” said Henry quickly. “Only stuff in the kitchen.”

  Margaret looked at Henry.

  “I thought we were making Glop,” she said.

  “We are,” said Henry. “My way, because it’s my house.”

  Horrid Henry and Moody Margaret went into the gleaming white kitchen. Henry got out two wooden mixing spoons and a giant red bowl.

  “I’ll start,” said Henry. He went to the cupboard and opened the doors wide.

  “Oatmeal!” said Henry.And he poured some into the bowl.

  Margaret opened the fridge and looked inside. She grabbed a small container.

  “Soggy semolina!” shouted Margaret. Into the bowl it went.

  “Coleslaw!”

  “Spinach!”

  “Coffee!”

  “Yogurt!”

  “Flour!”

  “Vinegar!”

  “Baked beans!”

  “Mustard!”

  “Peanut butter!”

  “Moldy cheese!”

  “Pepper!”

  “Rotten oranges!”

  “And ketchup!” shouted Henry. He squirted in the ketchup until the bottle was empty.

  “Now, mix!” said Margaret.

  Horrid Henry and Moody Margaret grabbed hold of their spoons with both hands.Then they plunged the spoons into the Glop and began to stir.

  It was hard, heavy work.

  Faster and faster, harder and harder they stirred.

  There was Glop on the ceiling. There was Glop on the floor.There was Glop on the clock, and Glop on the door. Margaret’s hair was covered in Glop. So was Henry’s face.

  Margaret looked into the bowl. She had never seen anything so yucky in her life.

  “It’s ready,” she said.

  Horrid Henry and Moody Margaret carried the Glop to the table.

  Then they sat down and stared at the sloppy, slimy, sludgy, sticky, smelly, gooey, gluey, gummy, greasy, gloopy Glop.

  “Right,” said Henry. “Who’s going to eat some first?”

  There was a very long pause.

  Henry looked at Margaret.

  Margaret looked at Henry.

  “Me,” said Margaret. “I’m not scared.”

  She scooped up a large spoonful and stuffed it in her mouth.

  Then she swallowed. Her face went pink and purple and green.

  “How does it taste?” said Henry.

  “Good,” said Margaret, trying not to choke.

  “Have some more then,” said Henry.

  “Your turn first,” said Margaret.

  Henry sat for a moment and looked at the Glop.

  “My mom doesn’t like me to eat between meals,” said Henry.

  “HENRY!” hissed Moody Margaret.

  Henry took a tiny spoonful.

  “More!” said Margaret.

  Henry took a tiny bit more. The Glop wobbled lumpily on his spoon. It looked like…Henry did not want to think about what it looked like.

  He closed his eyes and brought the spoon to his mouth.

  “Ummm, yummm,” said Henry. “You didn’t eat any,” said Margaret. “That’s not fair.”

  She scooped up some Glop and…

  I dread to think what would have happened next, if they had not been interrupted.

  “Can I come out now?” called a small voice from outside. “It’s my turn to be Hook.”

  Horrid Henry had forgotten all about Perfect Peter.

  “OK,” shouted Henry.

  Peter came to the door.

  “I’m hungry,” he said.

  “Come in, Peter,” said Henry sweetly. “Your dinner is on the table.”

  4

  HORRID HENRY’S HOLIDAY

  Horrid Henry hated vacations.

  Henry’s idea of a super vacation was sitting on the sofa eating chips and watching TV.

  Unfortunately, his parents usually had other plans.

  Once they took him to see some castles. But there were no castles. There were only piles of stones and broken walls.

  “Never again,” said Henry.

  The next year he had to go to a lot of museums.

  “Never again,” said Mom and Dad.

  Last year they went to the seaside.

  “The sun is too hot,” Henry whined.

  “The water is too cold,” Henry complained.

  “The food is yucky,” Henry grumbled.

  “The bed is lumpy,” Henry moaned.

  This year they decided to try something different.

  “We’re going camping,” said Henry’s parents.

  “Hooray!” said Henry.

  “You’re happy, Henry?” said Mom. Henry had never been happy about any vacation plans before.

  “Oh yes,” said Henry. Finally, finally, they were doing something good.

  Henry knew all about camping from Moody Margaret. Margaret had been camping with her family.They had stayed in a big tent with comfy beds, a fridge, a cooker, a bathroom, a shower, a heated swimming pool, and a great big giant TV with fifty-seven channels.

  “Oh boy!” said Horrid Henry.

  “Wowie!” said Perfect Peter.

  * * *

  The great day arrived at last. Horrid H
enry, Perfect Peter, Mom, and Dad boarded a ferry.

  Henry and Peter had never been on a boat before.

  Henry jumped on and off the seats.

  Peter did a lovely drawing.

  The boat went up and down and up and down.

  Henry ran back and forth between the aisles.

  Peter pasted stickers in his notebook.

  The boat went up and down and up and down.

  Henry sat on a revolving chair and spun round.

  Peter played with his puppets.

  The boat went up and down and up and down.

  Then Henry and Peter ate a big greasy lunch of hot dogs and french fries in the café.

  The boat went up and down, and up and down, and up and down.

  Henry began to feel queasy.

  Peter began to feel queasy.

  Henry’s face went green.

  Peter’s face went green.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” said Henry, and threw up all over Mom.

  “I think I’m going to be—” said Peter, and threw up all over Dad.

  “Oh no,” said Mom.

  “Never mind,” said Dad. “I just know this will be our best vacation ever.”

  * * *

  Finally, the boat arrived.

  After driving and driving and driving they reached the campsite.

  It was even better than Henry’s dreams.The tents were as big as houses. Henry heard the happy sound of TVs blaring, music playing, and children splashing and shrieking.The sun shone.The sky was blue.

  “Wow, this looks great,” said Henry.

  But the car drove on.

  “Stop!” said Henry. “You’ve gone too far.”

  “We’re not staying in that awful place,” said Dad.

  They drove on.

  “Here’s our campsite,” said Dad. “A real campsite!”

  Henry stared at the bare rocky ground under the cloudy gray sky. There were three small tents flapping in the wind.There was a single tap. There were a few trees.There was nothing else.