Horrid Henry Shows Who's Boss (3 page)

When no one was looking, he flicked the pea at Henry.

“Ouch,” said Henry.

“Don’t be horrid, Henry,” said Mom.

Henry reached for a fistful of peas. Then Henry remembered he was being perfect and stopped.

Peter smiled and waited. But no peas bopped him on the head.

Perfect Peter did not understand. Where was the foot that always kicked him under the table?

Slowly, Peter stretched out his foot and kicked Henry.

“OUCH,” said Henry.

“Don’t be horrid, Henry,” said Dad.

“But I…” said Henry, then stopped.

Henry’s foot wanted to kick Perfect Peter around the block.Then Henry remembered he was being perfect and continued to eat.

“You’re very quiet tonight,

Henry,” said Dad.

“The better to enjoy my lovely dinner,” said Henry.

“Henry, where are your peas and carrots?” asked Mum.

“I ate them,” said Henry. “They were delicious.”

Mom looked on the floor. She looked under Henry’s chair. She looked under his plate.

“You ate your peas and carrots?” said Mom slowly. She felt Henry’s forehead.

“Are you feeling all right, Henry?”

“Yeah,” said Horrid Henry. “I’m fine, thank you for asking,” he added quickly.

Mom and Dad looked at each other.What was going on?

Then they looked at Henry. “Henry, come here and let me give you a big kiss,” said Mom. “You are a wonderful boy.Would you like a piece of fudge cake?”

Peter interrupted.

“No cake for me, thank you,” said

Peter. “I would rather have more vegetables.”

Henry let himself be kissed. Oh my, it was hard work being perfect. He smiled sweetly at Peter.

“I would love some cake, thank you,” said Henry.

Perfect Peter could stand it no longer. He picked up his plate and aimed at Henry.

Then Peter threw the spaghetti.

Henry ducked.

SPLAT!

Spaghetti landed on Mom’s head. Tomato sauce trickled down her neck and down her new yellow fuzzy sweater.

“PETER!!!!” yelled Mom and Dad.

“YOU HORRID BOY!” yelled Mom.

“GO TO YOUR ROOM!!” yelled Dad.

Perfect Peter burst into tears and ran to his room.

Mom wiped spaghetti off her face. She looked very funny.

Henry tried not to laugh. He squeezed his lips together tightly.

But it was no use. I am sorry to say that he could not stop a laugh escaping.

“It’s not funny!” shouted Dad.

“Go to your room!” shouted Mom.

But Henry didn’t care.

Who would have thought being perfect would be such fun?

Stomp Stomp Stomp Stomp Stomp Stomp Stomp.

Horrid Henry was practicing his elephant dance.

Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap.

Perfect Peter was practicing his raindrop dance.

Peter was practicing being a raindrop for his dance class show.

Henry was also supposed to be practicing being a raindrop.

But Henry did not want to be a raindrop. He did not want to be a tomato, a string bean, or a banana either.

Stomp Stomp Stomp went Henry’s heavy boots.

Tap Tap Tap went Peter’s tap shoes.

“You’re doing it wrong, Henry,” said Peter.

“No I’m not,” said Henry.

“You are too,” said Peter. “We’re supposed to be raindrops.”

Stomp Stomp Stomp went Henry’s boots. He was an elephant smashing his way through the jungle, trampling on everyone who stood in his way.

“I can’t concentrate with you stomping,” said Peter. “And I have to practice my solo.”

“Who cares?” screamed Horrid Henry. “I hate dancing, I hate dance class, and most of all, I hate you!”

This was not entirely true. Horrid Henry loved dancing. Henry danced in his bedroom. Henry danced up and down the stairs. Henry danced on the new sofa and on the kitchen table.

What Henry hated was having to dance with other children.

“Couldn’t I go to karate instead?” asked Henry every Saturday.

“No,” said Mom. “Too violent.” “Judo?” said Henry.

“N-O spells no,” said Dad.

So every Saturday morning at 9:45 a.m., Henry and Peter’s father drove them to Miss Impatience Tutu’s Dance Studio.

Miss Impatience Tutu was skinny and bony. She had long stringy gray hair. Her nose was sharp. Her elbows were pointy. Her knees were knobbly. No one had ever seen her smile.

Perhaps this was because Impatience Tutu hated teaching.

Impatience Tutu hated noise.

Impatience Tutu hated children.

But most of all Impatience Tutu hated Horrid Henry.

This was not surprising.When Miss Tutu shouted,“Class, lift your left legs,” eleven left legs lifted. One right leg sagged to the floor.

When Miss Tutu screamed,“Heel, toe, heel, toe,” eleven dainty feet tapped away. One clumpy foot stomped toe, heel, toe, heel.

When Miss Tutu bellowed,“Class, skip to your right,” eleven bodies turned to the right. One body galumphed to the left.

Naturally, no one wanted to dance with Henry. Or indeed, anywhere near Henry.Today’s class, unfortunately, was no different.

“Miss Tutu, Henry is treading on my toes,” said Jumpy Jeffrey.

“Miss Tutu, Henry is kicking my legs,” said Lazy Linda.

“Miss Tutu, Henry is bumping me,” said Vain Violet.

“HENRY!” screeched Miss Tutu.