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  HORRID HENRY’S UNDERPANTS

  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, 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 absolutely fantastic series a d surely a winner with all children. Long live Francesca Simo and her brilliant books! More, more 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’s Underpants

  Horrid Henry and the Scary Sitter

  Horrid Henry’s Christmas

  HORRID HENRY’S UNDERPANTS

  Francesca Simon

  Illustrated by Tony Ross

  Text © Francesca Simon 2003

  Internal illustrations © Tony Ross 2003

  Cover illustrations © Tony Ross 2008

  Cover and internal design © 2009 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  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.sourcebooks.com

  Originally published in Great Britain in 2003 by Orion Children’s Books.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Simon, Francesca.

  Horrid Henry’s underpants / Francesca Simon ; illustrated by Tony Ross.

  p. cm.

  Originally published: Great Britain : Orion Children’s Books, 2003.

  ISBN 978-1-4022-3825-3

  [1. Behavior—Fiction.] I. Ross, Tony, ill. II. Title.

  PZ7.S604Hsu 2009

  [Fic]—dc22

  2008039691

  Printed and bound in the United States of America.

  VP 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  For Gina Kovarsky

  CONTENTS

  1 Horrid Henry Eats a Vegetable

  2 Horrid Henry’s Underpants

  3 Horrid Henry’s Sick Day

  4 Horrid Henry’s Thank You Letter

  1

  HORRID HENRY EATS A VEGETABLE

  “Ugggh! Gross! Yuck! Blecccccch!”

  Horrid Henry glared at the horrible, disgusting food slithering on his plate. Globby slobby blobs. Bumpy lumps. Rubbery blubbery globules of glop. Ugghh!

  How Dad and Mom and Peter could eat this swill without throwing up was amazing. Henry poked at the white, knobbly clump. It looked like brains. It felt like brains. Maybe it was… Ewwwwwwww.

  Horrid Henry pushed away his plate.

  “I can’t eat this,” moaned Henry. “I’ll be sick!”

  “Henry! Cauliflower cheese is delicious,” said Mom.

  “And nutritious,” said Dad.

  “I love it,” said Perfect Peter. “Can I have seconds?”

  “It’s nice to know someone appreciates my cooking,” said Dad. He frowned at Henry.

  “But I hate vegetables,” said Henry. Yuck. Vegetables were so… healthy. And tasted so… vegetably. “I want pizza!”

  “Well, you can’t have it,” said Dad.

  “Ralph has pizza and fries every night at his house,” said Henry. “And Graham never has to eat vegetables.”

  “I don’t care what Ralph and Graham eat,” said Mom.

  “You’ve got to eat more vegetables,” said Dad.

  “I eat lots of vegetables,” said Henry.

  “Name one,” said Dad.
<
br />   “Chips,” said Henry.

  “Chips aren’t vegetables, are they, Mom?” said Perfect Peter.

  “No,” said Mom. “Go on, Henry.”

  “Ketchup,” said Henry.

  “Ketchup is not a vegetable,” said Dad.

  “It’s impossible cooking for you,” said Mom.

  “You’re such a picky eater,” said Dad.

  “I eat lots of things,” said Henry.

  “Like what?” said Dad.

  “Fries. Chips. Burgers. Pizza. Chocolate. Candy. Cake. Cookies. Lots of food,” said Horrid Henry.

  “That’s not very healthy, Henry,” said Perfect Peter. “You haven’t said any fruit or vegetables.”

  “So?” said Henry. “Mind your own business, Toad.”

  “Henry called me Toad,” wailed Peter.

  “Ribbet. Ribbet,” croaked Horrid Henry.

  “Don’t be horrid, Henry,” snapped Dad.

  “You can’t go on eating so unhealthily,” said Mom.

  “Agreed,” said Dad.

  Uh oh, thought Henry. Here it comes. Nag nag nag. If there were prizes for best naggers, Mom and Dad would win every time.

  “I’ll make a deal with you, Henry,” said Mom.

  “What?” said Henry suspiciously. Mom and Dad’s “deals” usually involved his doing something horrible, for a pathetic reward. Well no way was he falling for that again.

  “If you eat all your vegetables for five nights in a row, we’ll take you to Gobble and Go.”

  Henry’s heart missed a beat. Gobble and Go! Gobble and Go! Only Henry’s favorite restaurant in the whole wide world. Their motto: “The fries just keep on coming!” shone forth from a purple neon sign. Music blared from twenty loudspeakers. Each table had its own TV. You could watch the chefs heat up your food in a giant microwave. Best of all, grown-ups never wanted to hang around for hours and chat. You ordered, gobbled, and left. Heaven.

  And what fantastic food! Jumbo burgers. Huge pizzas. Lakes of ketchup. As many fries as you could eat. Fifty-two different ice creams. And not a vegetable in sight.

  For some reason Mom and Dad hated Gobble and Go. They’d taken him once, and sworn they would never go again.

  And now, unbelievably, Mom was offering.

  “Deal!” shouted Henry, in case she changed her mind.

  “So we’re agreed,” said Mom. “You eat your vegetables every night for five nights, and then we’ll go.”

  “Sure. Whatever,” said Horrid Henry eagerly. He’d agree to anything for a meal at Gobble and Go. He’d agree to dance naked down the street singing “Hallelujah! I’m a nudie!” for the chance to eat at Gobble and Go.

  Perfect Peter stopped eating his cauliflower. He didn’t look very happy.

  “I always eat my vegetables,” said Peter. “What’s my reward?”

  “Health,” said Mom.

  Day 1. String beans.

  “Mom, Henry hasn’t eaten any beans yet,” said Peter.

  “I have too,” lied Henry.

  “No you haven’t,” said Peter. “I’ve been watching.”

  “Shut up, Peter,” said Henry. “Mom!” wailed Peter. “Henry told me to shut up.”

  “Don’t tell your brother to shut up,” said Mom.

  “It’s rude,” said Dad. “Now eat your veggies.”

  Horrid Henry glared at his plate, teeming with slimy string beans. Just like a bunch of green worms, he thought. Yuck.

  He must have been crazy agreeing to eat vegetables for five nights in a row. He’d be poisoned before day three.

  Then they’d be sorry. “How could we have been so cruel?” Mom would shriek. “We’ve killed our own son,” Dad would moan. “Why oh why did we make him eat his greens?” they would sob.

  Too bad he’d be dead so he couldn’t scream, “I told you so!”

  “We have a deal, Henry,” said Dad. “I know,” snapped Henry.

  He cut off the teeniest, tiniest bit of string bean he could.

  “Go on,” said Mom.

  Slowly, Horrid Henry lifted his fork and put the poison in his mouth.

  Aaaarrrgggghhhhhh! What a horrible taste! Henry spat and spluttered as the sickening sliver of string bean stuck in his throat.

  “Water!” he gasped.

  Perfect Peter speared several beans and popped them in his mouth.

  “Great string beans, Dad,” said Peter.

  “So crispy and crunchy.”

  “Have mine if you like them so much,” muttered Henry.

  “I want to see you eat every one of those string beans,” said Dad. “Or no Gobble and Go.”

  Horrid Henry scowled. No way was he eating another mouthful. The taste was too horrible. But, oh, Gobble and Go. Those burgers! Those fries! Those TVs!

  There had to be another way. Surely he, King Henry the Horrible, could defeat a plate of greens?

  Horrid Henry worked out his battle

  plan. It was dangerous. It was risky. But what choice did he have?

  First, he had to distract the enemy.

  “You know, Mom,” said Henry, pretending to chew, “you were right. These beans are very tasty.”

  Mom beamed.

  Dad beamed.

  “I told you you’d like them if you tried them,” said Mom.

  Henry pretended to swallow, then speared another bean. He pushed it around his plate.

  Mom got up to refill the water jug. Dad turned to speak to her. Now was his chance!

  Horrid Henry stretched out his foot under the table and lightly tickled Peter’s leg.

  “Look out, Peter, there’s a spider on your leg.”

  “Where?” squealed Peter, looking frantically under the table.

  Leap! Plop!

  Henry’s beans hopped onto Peter’s plate.

  Peter raised his head.

  “I don’t see any spider,” said Peter.

  “I knocked it off,” mumbled Henry, pretending to chew vigorously.

  Then Peter saw his plate, piled high with string beans.

  “Ooh,” said Peter, “lucky me! I thought I’d finished!”

  Tee hee, thought Horrid Henry.

  Day 2. Broccoli.

  Plip!

  A piece of Henry’s broccoli “accidentally” fell on the floor. Henry kicked it under Peter’s chair.

  Plop! Another piece of Henry’s broccoli fell. And another. And another.

  Plip plop. Plip plop. Plip plop.

  Soon the floor under Peter’s chair was littered with broccoli bits.

  “Mom!” said Henry. “Peter’s making a mess.”

  “Don’t be a tattletale, Henry,” said Dad.

  “He’s always telling on me,” said Henry.

  Dad checked under Peter’s chair.

  “Peter! Eat more carefully. You’re not a baby any more.”

  Ha ha ha, thought Horrid Henry.

  Day 3. Peas.

  Squish!

  Henry flattened a pea under his knife.

  Squash!

  Henry flattened another one.

  Squish. Squash. Squish. Squash.

  Soon every pea was safely squished and hidden under Henry’s knife.

  “Great dinner, Dad,” said Horrid Henry. “Especially the peas. I’ll clear,” he added, carrying his plate to the sink and quickly rinsing his knife.

  Dad beamed.

  “Eating vegetables is making you helpful,” said Dad.

  “Yes,” said Henry sweetly. “It’s great being helpful.”

  Day 4. Cabbage.

  Buzz.

  Buzz.

  “A fly landed on my cabbage!” shrieked Henry. He swatted the air with his hands.

  “Where?” said Mom.

  “There!” said Henry. He leapt out of his seat. “Now it’s on the fridge!”

  “Buzz,” said Henry under his breath.

  “I don’t see any fly,” said Dad.

  “Up there!” said Henry, pointing to the ceiling.

  Mom looked up.

  Dad look
ed up.

  Peter looked up.

  Henry dumped a handful of cabbage in the garbage. Then he sat back down at the table.

  “Rats,” said Henry. “I can’t eat the rest of my cabbage now, can I? Not after a filthy, horrible, disgusting fly has walked all over it, spreading germs and dirt and poo and—”

  “All right, all right,” said Dad. “Leave the rest.”

  I am a genius, thought Horrid Henry, smirking. Only one more battle until— Vegetable Victory!

  Day 5. Sprouts.

  Mom ate her sprouts.

  Dad ate his sprouts.

  Peter ate his sprouts.

  Henry glared at his sprouts. Of all the miserable, rotten vegetables ever invented, sprouts were the worst. So bitter. So stomach-churning. So…green.

  But how to get rid of them? There was Peter’s head, a tempting target. A very tempting target. Henry’s sproutflicking fingers itched. No, thought Horrid Henry. I can’t blow it when I’m so close.

  Should he throw them on the floor? Spit them in his napkin?

  Or—Horrid Henry beamed.

  There was a little drawer in the table in front of Henry’s chair. A perfect, brussels sprout-sized drawer.

  Henry eased it open. What could be simpler than stuffing a sprout or two inside while pretending to eat?

  Soon the drawer was full. Henry’s plate was empty.

  “Look Mom! Look Dad!” screeched Henry. “All gone!” Which was true, he thought gleefully.

  “Good job, Henry,” said Dad.

  “Good job, Henry,” said Peter.

  “We’ll take you to Gobble and Go tomorrow,” said Mom.

  “Yippee!” screamed Horrid Henry.

  Mom, Dad, Henry, and Peter walked up the street.

  Mom, Dad, Henry, and Peter walked down the street.

  Where was Gobble and Go, with its flashing neon sign, blaring music, and purple walls? They must have walked past it.