HORRID HENRY AND THE MEGA-MEAN TIME MACHINE
Meet HORRID HENRY the laugh-out-loud worldwide sensation!
Over 15 million copies sold in 27 countries and counting
# 1 chapter book series in the UK
Francesca Simon is the only American author to ever win the Galaxy British Book Awards Children’s Book of the Year (past winners include J.K. Rowling, Philip Pullman, and Eoin Colfer).
“Horrid Henry is a fabulous antihero…a modern comic classic.” — Guardian
“Wonderfully appealing to girls and boys alike, a precious rarity at this age.” —Judith Woods, Times
* * *
“The best children’s comic writer.”
—Amanda Craig, The Times
* * *
“I love the Horrid Henry books by Francesca Simon. They have lots of funny bits in. And Henry always gets into trouble!” —Mia, age 6, BBC Learning Is Fun
“My two boys love this book, and I have actually had tears running down my face and had to stop reading because of laughing so hard.” —T. Franklin, Parent
“It’s easy to see why Horrid Henry is the bestselling character for five- to eight-year-olds.” — Liverpool Echo
“Francesca Simon’s truly horrific little boy is a monstrously enjoyable creation. Parents love them because Henry makes their own little darlings seem like angels.” — Guardian Children’s Books Supplement
“I have tried out the Horrid Henry books with groups of children as a parent, as a babysitter, and as a teacher. Children love to either hear them read aloud or to read them themselves.” —Danielle Hall, Teacher
“A flicker of recognition must pass through most teachers and parents when they read Horrid Henry. There’s a tiny bit of him in all of us.” —Nancy Astee, Child Education
“As a teacher…it’s great to get a series of books my class loves. They go mad for Horrid Henry.” —A teacher
“Henry is a beguiling hero who has entranced millions of reluctant readers.” — Herald
* * *
“An abso utely fantastic series and sure y a w nner w th a l ch dren Long ive Francesca S mon and her brilliant books! More ore please”
A parent
* * *
“Laugh-out-loud reading for both adults and children alike.” —A parent
“Horrid Henry certainly lives up to his name, and his antics are everything you hope your own child will avoid—which is precisely why younger children so enjoy these tales.” — Independent on Sunday
“Henry might be unbelievably naughty, totally wicked, and utterly horrid, but he is frequently credited with converting the most reluctant readers into enthusiastic ones…superb in its simplicity.” — Liverpool Echo
* * *
“Will make you laugh out loud.”
— Sunday Times
* * *
“Parents reading them aloud may be consoled to discover that Henry can always be relied upon to behave worse than any of their own offspring.” — Independent
“What is brilliant about the books is that Henry never does anything that is subversive. She creates an aura of supreme naughtiness (of which children are in awe) but points out that he operates within a safe and secure world…eminently readable books.” —Emily Turner, Angels and Urchins
* * *
“Inventive and funny, with appeal for boys and girls alike, and super illustrations by Tony Ross.”
— Jewish Chronicle
* * *
“Accompanied by fantastic black-and-white drawings, the book is a joy to read. Horrid Henry has an irresistible appeal to everyone—child and adult alike! He is the child everyone is familiar with—irritating, annoying, but you still cannot help laughing when he gets into yet another scrape. Not quite a devil in disguise but you cannot help wondering at times! No wonder he is so popular!” —Angela Youngman
Horrid Henry by Francesca Simon
Horrid Henry
Horrid Henry Tricks the Tooth Fairy
Horrid Henry and the Mega-Mean Time Machine
Horrid Henry’s Stinkbomb
Horrid Henry and the Mummy’s Curse
Horrid Henry and the Soccer Fiend
HORRID HENRY AND THE MEGA-MEAN TIME MACHINE
Francesca Simon
Illustrated by Tony Ross
Copyright © 2009 by Francesca Simon
Cover and internal design © 2009 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover and internal illustrations © Tony Ross
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Published by Sourcebooks Jabberwocky, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.
P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567–4410
(630) 961–3900
Fax: (630) 961–2168
www.jabberwockykids.com
Originally published in Great Britain in 2005 by Orion Children’s Books.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Simon, Francesca.
Horrid Henry and the mega-mean time machine / Francesca Simon ; illustrated by Tony Ross.
p. cm.
Originally published: Great Britain : Orion Children’s Books, 2005.
[1. Behavior—Fiction.] I. Ross, Tony, ill. II. Title.
PZ7.S604Hoam 2009
[Fic]—dc22
2008039687
Printed and bound in the United States of America.
VP 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
For my sister,Anne Simon, who reminded me about our time machine
CONTENTS
1 Horrid Henry’s Hike
2 Horrid Henry and the Mega-Mean Time Machine
3 Perfect Peter’s Revenge
4 Horrid Henry Dines at Restaurant Le Posh
1
HORRID HENRY’S HIKE
Horrid Henry looked out the window. AAARRRGGGHHH! It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining. The birds were tweeting. The breeze was blowing. Little fluffy clouds floated by in a bright blue sky.
Rats.
Why couldn’t it be raining? Or hailing? Or sleeting?
Any minute, any second, it would happen…the words he’d been dreading, the words he’d give anything not to hear, the words—
“Henry! Peter! Time to go for a walk,” called Mom.
“Yippee!” said Perfect Peter. “I can wear my new yellow boots!”
“NO!” screamed Horrid Henry.
Go for a walk! Go for a walk! Didn’t he walk enough already? He walked to school. He walked home from school. He walked to the TV. He walked to the computer. He walked to the candy jar and all the way back to the comfy black chair. Horrid Henry walked plenty.
Ugghh. The last thing he needed was more walking. More chocolate, yes. More chips, yes. More walking? No way! Why oh why couldn’t his parents ever say, “Henry! Time to play on the computer.” Or “Henry, stop doing your homework this minute! Time to turn on the TV.”
But no. For some reason his mean, horrible parents thought he spent too much time sitting indoors. They’d been threatening for weeks to make him go on a family walk. Now the dreadful moment had come. His precious weekend was ruined.
Horrid Henry hated
nature. Horrid Henry hated fresh air. What could be more boring than walking up and down streets staring at lampposts? Or sloshing across some stupid muddy park? Nature smelled. Uggh! He’d much rather be inside watching TV.
Mom stomped into the living room.
“Henry! Didn’t you hear me calling?”
“No,” lied Henry.
“Get your boots on, we’re going,” said Dad, rubbing his hands. “What a lovely day.”
“I don’t want to go for a walk,” said Henry. “I want to watch Rapper Zapper Zaps Terminator Gladiator.”
“But Henry,” said Perfect Peter, “fresh air and exercise are so good for you.”
“I don’t care!” shrieked Henry.
Horrid Henry stomped downstairs and flung open the front door. He breathed in deeply, hopped on one foot, then shut the door.
“There! Done it. Fresh air and exercise,” snarled Henry.
“Henry, we’re going,” said Mom. “Get in the car.”
Henry’s ears pricked up.
“The car?” said Henry. “I thought we were going for a walk.”
“We are,” said Mom. “In the countryside.”
“Hurray!” said Perfect Peter. “A nice long walk.”
“NOOOO!” howled Henry. Plodding along in the boring old park was bad enough, with its moldy leaves and dog poo and stumpy trees. But at least the park wasn’t very big. But the countryside?
The countryside was enormous! They’d be walking for hours, days, weeks, months, till his legs wore down to stumps and his feet fell off. And the countryside was so dangerous! Horrid Henry was sure he’d be swallowed up by quicksand or trampled to death by marauding chickens.
“I live in the city!” shrieked Henry. “I don’t want to go to the country!”
“Time you got out more,” said Dad.
“But look at those clouds,” moaned Henry, pointing to a fluffy wisp. “We’ll get soaked.”
“A little water never hurt anyone,” said Mom.
Oh yeah? Wouldn’t they be sorry when he died of pneumonia.
“I’m staying here and that’s final!” screamed Henry.
“Henry, we’re waiting,” said Mom.
“Good,” said Henry.
“ I’m all ready, Mom,” said Peter.
“I’m going to start deducting money from your allowance,” said Dad. “Five cents, ten cents, fifteen cents, twenty—”
Horrid Henry pulled on his boots, stomped out the door, and got in the car. He slammed the door as hard as he could. It was so unfair! Why did he never get to do what he wanted to do? Now he would miss the first time Rapper Zapper had ever slugged it out with Terminator Gladiator. And all because he had to go on a long, boring, exhausting, horrible hike. He was so miserable he didn’t even have the energy to kick Peter.
“Can’t we just walk around the block?” moaned Henry.
“N-O spells no,” said Dad. “We’re going for a nice walk in the countryside and that’s that.”
Horrid Henry slumped miserably in his seat. Boy would they be sorry when he was gobbled up by goats. Boo hoo, if only we hadn’t gone on that walk in the wild, Mom would wail.
Henry was right, we should have listened to him, Dad would sob. I miss Henry, Peter would howl. I’ll never eat goat’s cheese again. And now it’s too late, they would shriek.
If only, thought Horrid Henry. That would serve them right.
All too soon, Mom pulled into a parking lot, on the edge of a small forest.
“Wow,” said Perfect Peter. “Look at all those pretty trees.”
“Bet there are werewolves hiding there,” muttered Henry. “And I hope they come and eat you!”
“Mom!” squealed Peter. “Henry’s trying to scare me.”
“Don’t be horrid, Henry,” said Mom.
Horrid Henry looked around him. There was a gate, leading to endless meadows bordered by bushes. A muddy path wound through the trees and across the fields. A church spire stuck up in the distance.
“All right, I’ve seen the countryside, let’s go home,” said Henry.
Mom glared at him.
“What?” said Henry, scowling.
“Let’s enjoy this lovely day,” said Dad, sighing.
“So what do we do now?” said Henry.
“Walk,” said Dad.
“Where?” said Henry.
“Just walk,” said Mom, “and enjoy the beautiful scenery.”
Henry groaned.
“We’re heading for the lake,” said Dad, striding off. “I’ve brought bread and we can feed the ducks.”
“But Rapper Zapper starts in an hour!”
“Tough,” said Mom.
Mom, Dad, and Peter headed through the gate into the field. Horrid Henry trailed behind them walking as slowly as he could.
“Ahh, breathe the lovely fresh air,” said Mom.
“We should do this more often,” said Dad.
Henry sniffed.
The horrible smell of manure filled his nostrils.
“Ewww, smelly,” said Henry. “Peter, couldn’t you wait?”
“MOM!” shrieked Peter. “Henry called me smelly.”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“Did not, smelly.”
“WAAAAAAAAA!” wailed Peter. “Tell him to stop!”
“Don’t be horrid, Henry!” screamed Mom. Her voice echoed. A dog walker passed her and glared.
“Peter, would you rather run a mile, jump a fence, or eat a country pancake?” said Henry sweetly.
“Ooh,” said Peter. “I love pancakes. And a country one must be even more delicious than a city one.”
“Ha ha,” cackled Horrid Henry, sticking out his tongue. “Fooled you. Peter wants to eat cow pies!”
“MOM!” screamed Peter.
Henry walked.
And walked.
And walked.
His legs felt heavier, and heavier, and heavier.
“This field is muddy,” moaned Henry. “I’m bored,” groaned Henry.
“My feet hurt,” complained Henry. “Can’t we go home? We’ve already walked miles,” whined Henry.
“We’ve been walking for ten minutes,” said Dad.
“Please can we go on walks more often,” said Perfect Peter. “Oh, look at those fluffy little sheepies!”
Horrid Henry pounced. He was a zombie biting the head off the hapless human.
“AAAAEEEEEE!” squealed Peter.
“Henry!” screamed Mom.
“Stop it!” screamed Dad. “Or no TV for a week.”
When he was king, thought Horrid Henry, any parent who made their children go on a hike would be dumped barefoot in a scorpion-infested desert.
Horrid Henry dragged his feet. Maybe his horrible mean parents would get fed up waiting for him and turn back, he thought, kicking some moldy leaves.
Squelch.
Squelch.
Squelch.
Oh no, not another muddy meadow. And then suddenly Horrid Henry had an idea. What was he thinking? All that fresh air must be rotting his brain. The sooner they got to the stupid lake, the sooner they could get home for Rapper Zapper Zaps Terminator Gladiator.
“Come on, everyone, let’s run!” shrieked Henry. “Race you down the hill to the lake!”
“That’s the spirit, Henry,” said Dad. Horrid Henry dashed past Dad.
“OW!” shrieked Dad, tumbling into the stinging nettles.
Horrid Henry whizzed past Mom.
“Eww!” shrieked Mom, slipping in a cow pie.
Splat!
Horrid Henry pushed past Peter.
“Waaa!” wailed Peter. “My boots are getting dirty.”
Horrid Henry scampered down the muddy path.
“Wait Henry!” yelped Mom. “It’s too slipp—aaaiiieeeee!”
Mom slid down the path on her bottom.
“Slow down!” puffed Dad.
“I can’t run that fast,” wailed Peter.
But Horrid Henry raced on.
“Shortcut across the field!” he called. “Come on slowpokes!” The black and white cow grazing alone in the middle raised its head.
“Henry!” shouted Dad.
Horrid Henry kept running.
“I don’t think that’s a cow!” shouted Mom.
The cow lowered its head and charged.
“It’s a bull!” yelped Mom and Dad. “RUN!”
“I said it was dangerous in the countryside!” gasped Henry, as everyone clambered over the fence in the nick of time. “Look, there’s the lake!” he added, pointing.
Henry ran down to the water’s edge. Peter followed. The embankment narrowed to a point. Peter slipped past Henry and snagged the best spot, right at the water’s edge where the ducks gathered.
“Hey, get away from there,” said Henry.
“I want to feed the ducks,” said Peter.
“I want to feed the ducks,” said Henry. “Now move.”
“I was here first,” said Peter.
“Not any more,” said Henry.
Horrid Henry pushed Peter.
“Out of my way, worm!”
Perfect Peter pushed him back.
“Don’t call me worm!”
Henry wobbled.
Peter wobbled.
Splash!
Peter tumbled into the lake. Crash!
Henry tumbled into the lake.
“My babies!” shrieked Mom, jumping in after them.
“My—glug glug glug!” shrieked Dad, jumping into the muddy water after her.
“My new boots!” gurgled Perfect Peter.
Horrid Henry and the Mega-Mean Time Machine Page 1
