Horrid Henry Tricks the Tooth Fairy

by Francesca Simon

  HORRID HENRY’S WEDDING

  “I’m not wearing these horrible clothes and that’s that!”

  Horrid Henry glared at the mirror.A stranger smothered in a lilac ruffled shirt, green satin knickerbockers, tights, pink cummerbund tied in a floppy bow, and pointy white satin shoes with gold buckles glared back at him.

  Henry had never seen anyone looking so silly in his life.

  “Aha ha ha ha ha!” shrieked Horrid Henry, pointing at the mirror.

  Then Henry peered more closely.The ridiculous looking boy was him.

  Perfect Peter stood next to Horrid Henry. He too was smothered in a lilac ruffled shirt, green satin knickerbockers, tights, pink cummerbund, and pointy white shoes with gold buckles. But, unlike Henry, Peter was smiling.

  “Aren’t they adorable!” squealed Prissy Polly.“That’s how my children are always going to dress.”

  Prissy Polly was Horrid Henry’s horrible older cousin. Prissy Polly was always squeaking and squealing:

  “Eeek, it’s a speck of dust.”

  “Eeek, it’s a puddle.”

  “Eeek, my hair is a mess.”

  But when Prissy Polly announced she was getting married to Pimply Paul and wanted Henry and Peter to be ring bearers, Mom said yes before Henry could stop her.

  “What’s a ring bearer?” asked Henry suspiciously.

  “A ring bearer carries the wedding rings down the aisle on a satin cushion,” said Mom.

  “And throws confetti afterward,” said Dad.

  Henry liked the idea of throwing confetti. But carrying rings on a cushion?

  No thanks.

  “I don’t want to be a ring bearer,” said Henry.

  “I do, I do,” said Peter.

  “You’re going to be a ring bearer, and that’s that,” said Mom.

  “And you’ll behave yourself,” said Dad.“It’s very kind of cousin Polly to ask you.”

  Henry scowled.

  “Who’d want to be married to her?” said Henry.“I wouldn’t if you paid me a million dollars.”

  But for some reason the groom, Pimply Paul, did want to marry Prissy Polly.And, as far as Henry knew, he had not been paid one million dollars.

  Pimply Paul was also trying on his wedding clothes. He looked ridiculous in a black top hat, lilac shirt, and a black jacket covered in gold swirls.

  “I won’t wear these silly clothes,” said Henry.

  “Oh be quiet, you little brat,” snapped Pimply Paul.

  Horrid Henry glared at him.

  “I won’t,” said Henry.“And that’s final.”

  “Henry, stop being horrid,” said Mom. She looked extremely silly in a big floppy hat dripping with flowers.

  Suddenly Henry grabbed at the lace ruffles around his throat.

  “I’m choking,” he gasped. “I can’t breathe.”

  Then Henry fell to the floor and rolled around.

  “Uggggghhhhhhh,” moaned Henry.

  “I’m dying.”

  “Get up this minute, Henry!” said Dad.

  “Eeek, there’s dirt on the floor!” shrieked Polly.

  “Can’t you control that child?” hissed Pimply Paul.

  “I DON’T WANT TO BE A RING BEARER!” howled Horrid Henry.

  “Thank you so much for asking me to be a ring bearer, Polly,” shouted Perfect Peter, trying to be heard over Henry’s screams.

  “You’re welcome,” shouted Polly.

  “Stop that, Henry!” ordered Mom. “I’ve never been so ashamed in my life.”

  “I hate children,” muttered Pimply Paul under his breath.

  Horrid Henry stopped. Unfortunately, his ring bearer clothes looked as fresh and crisp as ever.

  All right, thought Horrid Henry.You want me at this wedding? You’ve got me.

  Prissy Polly’s wedding day arrived. Henry was delighted to see rain pouring down. How mad Polly would be.

  Perfect Peter was already dressed.

  “Isn’t this going to be fun, Henry?” said Peter.

  “No!” said Henry, sitting on the floor. “And I’m not going.”

  Mom and Dad stuffed Henry into his ring bearer clothes. It was hard, heavy work.

  Finally everyone was in the car.

  “We’re going to be late!” shrieked Mom.

  “We’re going to be late!” shrieked Dad.

  “We’re going to be late!” shrieked Peter.

  “Good!” muttered Henry.

  Mom, Dad, Henry, and Peter arrived at the church. Boom! There was a clap of thunder. Rain poured down.All the other guests were already inside.

  “Watch out for the puddle, boys,” said Mom, as she leapt out of the car. She opened her umbrella.

  Dad jumped over the puddle.

  Peter jumped over the puddle.

  Henry jumped over the puddle, and tripped.

  SPLASH!

  “Oopsy,” said Henry.

  His ruffles were torn, his knickerbockers were filthy, and his satin shoes were soaked.

  Mom, Dad, and Peter were covered in muddy water.

  Perfect Peter burst into tears.

  “You’ve ruined my ring bearer clothes,” sobbed Peter.

  Mom wiped as much dirt as she could off Henry and Peter.

  “It was an accident, Mom, really,” said Henry.

  “Hurry up, you’re late!” shouted Pimply Paul.

  Mom and Dad dashed into the church. Henry and Peter stayed outside, waiting to make their entrance.

  Pimply Paul and his best man, Cross Colin, stared at Henry and Peter.

  “You look like a mess,” said Paul.

  “It was an accident,” said Henry.

  Peter sniveled.

  “Now be careful with the wedding rings,” said Cross Colin. He handed Henry and Peter a satin cushion each, with a gold ring on top.

  A great quivering clump of lace and taffeta and bows and flowers approached. Henry guessed Prissy Polly must be lurking somewhere underneath.

  “Eeek,” squeaked the clump.“Why did it have to rain on my wedding?”

  “Eeek,” squeaked the clump again. “You’re filthy.”

  Perfect Peter began to sob.The satin cushion trembled in his hand.The ring balanced precariously near the edge.

  Cross Colin snatched Peter’s cushion.

  “You can’t carry a ring with your hand shaking like that,” snapped Colin.“You’d better carry them both, Henry.”

  “Come on,” hissed Pimply Paul. “We’re late!”

  Cross Colin and Pimply Paul dashed into the church.

  The music started. Henry pranced down the aisle after Polly. Everyone stood up.

  Henry beamed and bowed and waved. He was King Henry the Horrible, smiling graciously at his cheering subjects before he chopped off their heads.

  As he danced along, he stepped on Polly’s long, trailing dress.

  Riiiiip.

  “Eeeeek!” squeaked Prissy Polly.

  Part of Polly’s train lay beneath Henry’s muddy satin shoe.

  That dress was too long anyway, thought Henry. He kicked the fabric out of the way and stomped down the aisle.

  The bride, groom, best man, and ring bearers assembled in front of the minister.

  Henry stood…and stood…and stood.The minister droned on…and on…and on. Henry’s arm holding up the cushion began to ache.

  This is boring, thought Henry, jiggling the rings on the cushion.

  Boing! Boing! Boing!

  Oooh, thought Henry. I’m good at ring tossing.

  The rings bounced.

  The minister droned.

  Henry was a famous pancake chef, tossing the pancakes higher and higher and higher…

  Clink clunk.

  The rings rolled down the aisle and vanished down a small grate.

  Oops, thought Henry.

  “May I have the rings, please?” said the minister.

  Everyone looked at Henry.

  “He’s got them,” said Henry desperately, pointing at Peter.
r />   “I do not,” sobbed Peter.

  Henry reached into his pocket. He found two pieces of old chewing gum, some gravel, and his lucky pirate ring.

  “Here, use this,” he said.

  At last, Pimply Paul and Prissy Polly were married.

  Cross Colin handed Henry and Peter a basket of pink and yellow rose petals each.

  “Throw the petals in front of the bride and groom as they walk back down the aisle,” whispered Colin.

  “I will,” said Peter. He scattered the petals before Pimply Paul and Prissy Polly.

  “So will I,” said Henry. He hurled a handful of petals in Pimply Paul’s face.

  “Watch it, you little brat,” snarled Paul.

  “Windy, isn’t it?” said Henry. He hurled another handful of petals at Polly.

  “Eeek,” squeaked Prissy Polly.

  “Everyone outside for the photographs,” said the photographer.

  Horrid Henry loved having his picture taken. He dashed out.

  “Pictures of the bride and groom first,” said the photographer.

  Henry jumped in front.

  Click.

  Henry peeked from the side.

  Click.

  Henry stuck out his tongue.

  Click.

  Henry made horrible rude faces.

  Click.

  “This way to the reception!” said Cross Colin.

  The wedding party was held in a nearby hotel.

  The adults did nothing but talk and eat, talk and drink, talk and eat.

  Perfect Peter sat at the table and ate his lunch.

  Horrid Henry sat under the table and poked people’s legs. He crawled around and squashed some toes.Then Henry got bored and drifted into the next room.

  There was the wedding cake, standing alone, on a little table. It was the most beautiful, delicious looking cake Henry had ever seen. It had three layers and was covered in luscious white icing and yummy iced flowers and bells and leaves.

  Henry’s mouth watered.

  I’ll just taste a teeny weeny bit of petal, thought Henry. No harm in that.

  He broke off a morsel and popped it in his mouth.

  Mmmmm boy! That icing tasted great.

  Perhaps just one more bite, thought Henry. If I take it from the back, no one will notice.

  Henry carefully selected an icing rose from the bottom tier and stuffed it in his mouth.Wow.

  Henry stood back from the cake. It looked a little uneven now, with that rose missing from the bottom.

  I’ll just even it up, thought Henry. It was the work of a moment to break off a rose from the middle tier and another from the top.

  Then a strange thing happened.

  “Eat me,” whispered the cake.“Go on.”

  Who was Henry to ignore such a request?

  He picked out a few crumbs from the back.

  Delicious, thought Henry.Then he took a few more.And a few more.Then he dug out a nice big chunk.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” shouted Pimply Paul.

  Henry ran around the cake table. Paul ran after him.

  Around and around and around the cake they ran.

  “Just wait till I get my hands on you!” snarled Pimply Paul.

  Henry dashed under the table.

  Pimply Paul lunged for him and missed.

  SPLAT.

  Pimply Paul fell headfirst onto the cake.

  Henry slipped away.

  Prissy Polly ran into the room.

  “Eeek,” she shrieked.

  “Wasn’t that a lovely wedding?” sighed Mom on the way home.“Funny they didn’t have a cake, though.”

  “Oh yes,” said Dad.

  “Oh yes,” said Peter.

  “OH YES!” said Henry.“I’ll be glad to be a ring bearer anytime.”

  3

  MOODY MARGARET MOVES IN

  Mom was on the phone.

  “Of course we’d be delighted to have Margaret,” she said.“It will be no trouble at all.”

  Henry stopped breaking the tails off Peter’s plastic horses.

  “WHAT?” he howled.

  “Shh, Henry,” said Mom.“No, no,” she added.“Henry is delighted, too. See you Friday.”

  “What’s going on?” said Henry.

  “Margaret is coming to stay while her parents go on vacation,” said Mom.

  Henry was speechless with horror.

  “She’s going to stay…here?”

  “Yes,” said Mom.

  “How long?” said Henry.

  “Two weeks,” said Mom brightly.

  Horrid Henry could not stand Moody Margaret for more than two minutes.

  “Two weeks?” he said.“I’ll run away! I’ll lock her out of the house, I’ll pull her hair out, I’ll…”

  “Don’t be horrid, Henry,” said Mom. “Margaret’s a lovely girl and I’m sure we’ll have fun.”

  “No we won’t,” said Henry.“Not with that moody old grouch.”

  “I’ll have fun,” said Perfect Peter.“I love having guests.”

  “She’s not sleeping in my room,” said Horrid Henry.“She can sleep in the basement.”

  “No,” said Mom.“You’ll move into Peter’s room and let Margaret have your bed.”

  Horrid Henry opened his mouth to scream, but only a rasping sound came out. He was so appalled he could only gasp.

  “Give…up…my…room!” he choked. “To…Margaret?”

  Margaret spying on his treasures, sleeping in his bed, playing with his toys while he had to share a room with Peter…

  “No!” howled Henry. He fell on the floor and screamed.“NO!!”

  “I don’t mind giving up my bed for a guest,” said Perfect Peter.“It’s the polite thing to do. Guests come first.”

  Henry stopped howling just long enough to kick Peter.

  “Owww!” screamed Peter. He burst into tears,“Mom!”

  “Henry!” yelled Mom.“You horrid boy! Say sorry to Peter.”

  “She’s not coming!” shrieked Henry. “And that’s final.”

  “Go to your room!” yelled Mom.

  Moody Margaret arrived at Henry’s house with her parents, four suitcases, seven boxes of toys, two pillows, and a trumpet.

  “Margaret won’t be any trouble,” said her mom.“She’s always polite, eats everything, and never complains. Isn’t that right, Precious?”

  “Yes,” said Margaret.

  “Margaret’s no fusspot,” said her dad. “She’s good as gold, aren’t you, Precious?”

  “Yes,” said Margaret.

  “Have a lovely vacation,” said Mom.

  “We will,” said Margaret’s parents.

  The door slammed behind them.

  Moody Margaret marched into the living room and swept a finger across the mantel.

  “It’s not very clean, is it?” she said. “You’d never find so much dust at my house.”

  “Oh,” said Dad.

  “A little dust never hurt anyone,” said Mom.

  “I’m allergic,” said Margaret.“One whiff of dust and I start to…sn…sn… ACHOOO!” she sneezed.

  “We’ll clean up right away,” said Mom.

  Dad mopped.

  Mom swept.

  Peter dusted.

  Henry vacuumed.

  Margaret directed.

  “Henry, you’ve missed a big dust ball right there,” said Margaret, pointing under the sofa.

  Horrid Henry vacuumed as far away from the dust as possible.

  “Not there, here!” said Margaret.

  Henry aimed the vacuum at Margaret. He was a fire-breathing dragon burning his prey to a crisp.

  “Help!” shrieked Margaret.

  “Henry!” said Dad.

  “Don’t be horrid,” said Mom.

  “I think Henry should be punished,” said Margaret.“I think he should be locked in his bedroom for three weeks.”

  “I don’t have a bedroom to be locked up in ’cause you’re in it,” said Henry. He glared
at Margaret.

  Margaret glared back.

  “I’m the guest, Henry, so you’d better be polite,” hissed Margaret.

  “Of course he’ll be polite,” said Mom.

  “Don’t worry, Margaret.Any trouble, you come straight to me.”

  “Thank you,” said Moody Margaret, smiling.“I will. I’m hungry,” she added. “Why isn’t supper ready?”

  “It will be soon,” said Dad.

  “But I always eat at six o’clock,” said Margaret,“I want to eat NOW.”

  “All right,” said Dad.

  Horrid Henry and Moody Margaret dashed for the seat facing the garden. Margaret got there first. Henry shoved her off. Then Margaret shoved him off.

  Thud. Henry landed on the floor.

  “Ouch,” said Henry.

  “Let the guest have the chair,” said Dad.

  “But that’s my chair,” said Henry. “That’s where I always sit.”

  “Have my chair, Margaret,” said Perfect Peter.“I don’t mind.”

  “I want to sit here,” said Moody Margaret.“I’m the guest so i decide.”

  Horrid Henry dragged himself around the table and sat next to Peter.

  “OUCH!” shrieked Margaret.“Henry kicked me!”

  “No I didn’t,” said Henry, outraged.

  “Stop it, Henry,” said Mom.“That’s no way to treat a guest.”

  Henry stuck out his tongue at Margaret. Moody Margaret stuck out her tongue even further, then stomped on his foot.

  “OUCH!” shrieked Henry.“Margaret kicked me!”

  Moody Margaret gasped.“Oh I’m ever

  so sorry, Henry,” she said sweetly.“It was an accident. Silly me. I didn’t mean to, really I didn’t.”

  Dad brought the food to the table.

  “What’s that?” asked Margaret.

  “Baked beans, corn on the cob, and chicken,” said Dad.

  “I don’t like baked beans,” said Margaret.“And I like my corn off the cob.”

  Mom scraped the corn off the cob.

  “No, put the corn on a separate plate!” shrieked Margaret.“I don’t like vegetables touching my meat.”

  Dad got out the pirate plate, the duck plate, and the “Happy birthday, Peter” plate.

  “I want the pirate plate,” said Margaret, snatching it.

  “I want the pirate plate,” said Henry, snatching it back.

  “I don’t mind which plate I get,” said Perfect Peter.“A plate’s a plate.”