Horrid Henry and the Mummy's Curse (2 page)

1 Horrid Henry’s Hobby

2 Horrid Henry’s Homework

3 Horrid Henry’s Swimming Lesson

4 Horrid Henry and the Mummy’s Curse

“Out of my way, worm!” shrieked Horrid Henry, pushing past his younger brother Perfect Peter and dashing into the kitchen.

“NO!” screamed Perfect Peter. He scrambled after Henry and clutched his leg.

“Get off me!” shouted Henry. He grabbed the unopened Sweet Tweet cereal box. “Nah nah ne nah nah, I got it first.”

Perfect Peter lunged for the Sweet Tweet box and snatched it from Henry. “But it’s my turn!”

“No, mine!” shrieked Henry.

He ripped open the top and stuck his hand inside.

“It’s mine!” shrieked Peter. He ripped open the bottom.

A small wrapped toy fell to the floor.

Henry and Peter both lunged for it.

“Gimme that!” yelled Henry.

“But it’s my turn to have it!” yelled Peter.

“Stop being horrid, Henry!” shouted Mom. “Now give me that thing!”

Henry and Peter both held on tight.

“NO!” screamed Henry and Peter. “IT’S MY TURN TO HAVE THE TOY!”

Horrid Henry and Perfect Peter both collected Gizmos from inside Sweet Tweet cereal boxes. So did everyone at their school. There were ten different colored Gizmos to collect, from the common green to the rare gold. Both Henry and Peter had Gizmos of every color. Except for one. Gold.

“Right,” said Mom, “whose turn is it to get the toy?”

“MINE!” screamed Henry and Peter.

“He got the last one!” screeched Henry. “Remember—he opened the new box and got the blue Gizmo.”

It was true that Perfect Peter had got the blue Gizmo—two boxes ago. But why should Peter get any? If he hadn’t started collecting Gizmos to copy me, thought Henry resentfully, I’d get every single one.

“NO!” howled Peter. He burst into tears. “Henry opened the last box.”

“Crybaby,” jeered Henry.

“Stop it,” said Peter.

“Stop it,” mimicked Henry.

“Mom, Henry’s teasing me,” wailed Peter.

“I remember now,” said Mom. “It’s Peter’s turn.”

“Thank you, Mom,” said Perfect Peter.

“It’s not fair!” screamed Horrid Henry as Peter tore open the wrapping. There was a gold gleam.

“Oh my goodness,” gasped Peter. “A gold Gizmo!”

Horrid Henry felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. He stared at the glorious, glowing, golden Gizmo.

“It’s not fair!” howled Henry. “I want a gold Gizmo!”

“I’m sorry, Henry,” said Mom. “It’ll be your turn next.”

“But I want the gold one!” screamed Henry.

He leaped on Peter and yanked the Gizmo out of his hand. He was Hurricane Henry uprooting everything in his path.

“Hellllllllp!” howled Peter.

“Stop being horrid, Henry, or no more Gizmos for you!” shouted Mom. “Now clean up this mess and get dressed.”

“NO!” howled Henry. He ran upstairs to his room, slamming the door behind him.

He had to have a gold Gizmo. He simply had to. No one at school had a gold one. Henry could see himself now, the center of attention, everyone pushing and shoving just to get a look at his gold Gizmo. Henry could charge 50¢ a peek. Everyone would want to see it and to hold it. Henry would be invited to every birthday party. Instead, Peter would be the star attraction. Henry gnashed his teeth just thinking about it.

But how could he get one? You couldn’t buy Gizmos. You could only get them inside Sweet Tweet cereal boxes. Mom was so mean she made Henry and Peter finish the old box before she’d buy a new one. Henry had eaten mountains of Sweet Tweet cereal to collect all his Gizmos. All that hard work would be in vain, unless he got a gold one.

He could, of course, steal Peter’s. But Peter would be sure to notice, and Henry would be the chief suspect.

He could swap. Yes! He would offer Peter
two
greens! That was generous. In fact, that was really generous. But Peter hated doing swaps. For some reason he always thought Henry was trying to cheat him.

And then suddenly Henry had a brilliant, spectacular idea. True, it did involve a little tiny teensy weensy bit of trickery, but Henry’s cause was just.
He’d
been collecting Gizmos far longer than Peter had. He deserved a gold one, and Peter didn’t.

“So, you got a gold Gizmo,” said Henry, popping into Peter’s room. “I’m really sorry.”

Perfect Peter looked up from polishing his Gizmos. “Why?” he said suspiciously. “
Everyone
wants a gold Gizmo.”

Horrid Henry looked sadly at Perfect Peter. “Not anymore. They’re very unlucky, you know. Every single person who’s got one has died horribly.”

Perfect Peter stared at Henry, then at his golden Gizmo.

“That’s not true, Henry.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it isn’t.”

Horrid Henry walked slowly around Peter’s room. Every so often he made a little note in a notebook.

“Marbles, check. Three knights, check. Nature kit—nah. Coin collection, check.”

“What are you doing?” said Peter.

“Just looking at your stuff to see what I want when you’re gone.”

“Stop it!” said Peter. “You just made that up about gold Gizmos—didn’t you?”

“No,” said Henry. “It’s in all the newspapers. There was the boy out walking his dog who fell into a pit of molten lava.

There was the girl who drowned in the toilet, and then that poor boy who—”

“I don’t want to die,” said Perfect Peter. He looked pale. “What am I going to do?”

Henry paused. “There’s nothing you can do. Once you’ve got it you’re sunk.”

Peter jumped up.

“I’ll throw it away!”

“That wouldn’t work,” said Henry.

“You’d still be jinxed. There’s only one way out—”

“What?” said Perfect Peter.

“If you give the gold away to someone brave enough to take it, then the jinx passes to them.”

“But no one will take it from me!” wailed Peter.

“Tell you what,” said Henry. “I’ll take the risk.”

“Are you sure?” said Peter.

“Of course,” said Horrid Henry. “You’re my brother. You’d risk your life for me.”

“OK,” said Peter. He handed Henry the gold Gizmo. “Thank you, Henry. You’re the best brother in the world.”

“I know,” said Horrid Henry.

He actually had his very own gold Gizmo in his hand. It was his, fair and square. He couldn’t wait to see Moody Margaret’s face when he waved it in front of her. And Rude Ralph. He would be green with envy.

Then Perfect Peter burst into tears and ran downstairs.

“Mom!” he wailed. “Henry’s going to die! And it’s all my fault.”

“What?” screeched Mom.

Uh oh, thought Henry. He clutched his treasure.

Mom stormed upstairs. She snatched the gold Gizmo from Henry.

“How could you be so horrid, Henry?” shouted Mom. “No TV for a week! Poor Peter. Now get ready. We’re going shopping.”

“NO!” howled Henry. “I’m not going!”

* * *