Horrid Henry Robs the Bank Read Free

him kicking and screaming next door. “You can come home at five o’clock to get ready for Dave’s party and not a minute before.”
    Horrid Henry gazed longingly over the wall. His house looked so inviting. There was his bedroom window, twinkling at him. And his lonesome TV, stuck all by itself in the living room, just begging him to come over and turn it on. And all his wonderful toys, just waiting to be played with. Funny, thought Horrid Henry, his toys seemed so boring when he was in his room. But now that he was trapped at Margaret’s, there was so much he longed to do at home.

    Wait. He could hide out in his fort until five. Yes! Then he’d stroll into his house as if he’d been at Margaret’s all day. But then Margaret’s mom would be sure to call his mom to say that Henry had vanished and Henry would get into trouble. Big, big trouble. Big, big, banned from Dave’s party trouble.
    Or, he’d pretend to be sick. Margaret’s mom was such an old fusspot she’d be sure to send him home immediately. Yippee. He was a genius. This would be easy. A few loud coughs, a few dramatic clutches at his stomach, a dash to the bathroom, and he’d be sent straight home and…oops. He’d be put to bed. No party. No pizza. No bowling. And what was the point of pretending to be sick on the weekend ? He was trapped.

    Moody Margaret whacked her ruler on the table.
    â€œI want everyone to write a story,” said Margaret.
    Write a story! Boy would Horrid Henry write a story. He seized a piece of paper and a pencil and scribbled away.
    â€œWho’d like to read their story to the class?” said Margaret.
    â€œI will,” said Henry.
    Once upon a time there was a moody old grouch named Margaret. Margaret had been born a frog but an ugly wizard cursed the frog and turned it into Margaret.
    â€œThat’s enough, Henry,” snapped Margaret. Henry ignored her.
    â€œRibbet ribbet,” said Margaret Frog. “Ribbet ribbet ribbet.” Everyone in the kingdom tried to get rid of this horrible croaking moody monster. But she smelled so awful that no one could get near her. And then one day a hero named Heroic Henry came, and he held his nose, grabbed the Margaret Monster and hurled her into outer space where she exploded and was never seen again.
    THE END

    Susan giggled. Margaret glared.
    â€œF,” said Margaret.
    â€œWhy?” said Horrid Henry innocently.
    â€œâ€™Cause,” said Margaret. “I’m the teacher and I say it was boring.”
    â€œDid you think my story was boring, Peter?” demanded Henry.
    Peter looked nervous.
    â€œDid you?” said Margaret.
    â€œWell, uhm, uhmm, I think mine is better,” said Peter.
    Once upon a time there was a dish towel named Terry. He was a very sad dish towel because he didn’t have any dishes to dry. One day he found a lot of wet dishes. Swish swish swish, they were dry in no time. “Yippee”, said Terry the Towel, “I wonder when–”

    â€œBoring!” shouted Horrid Henry.
    â€œExcellent, Peter,” said Moody Margaret. “ Much better than Henry’s.”
    Susan read a story about her cat.
    My cat Kitty Kat is a big fat cat. She says meow. One day Kitty Kat met a dog. Meow, said Kitty Kat. Woof woof, said the dog. Kitty Kat ran away. So did the dog. The end.
    â€œOK class, here are your scores,” said Margaret. “Peter came in first.”
    â€œYay!” said Perfect Peter.
    â€œ What ?” said Susan. “My story was way better than his.”
    â€œSusan came in second, Henry came in ninth.”
    â€œHow can I be ninth if there are only three people in the class?” demanded Horrid Henry.
    â€œâ€™Cause that’s how bad your story was,” said Margaret. “Now, I’ve made some worksheets for you. No talking or there’ll be no break.”
    â€œGoody,” said Perfect Peter. “I love