Horrid Henry Rocks by Francesca Simon

“Baa! Baa! Baa!”
    Perfect Peter baaed happily at his sheep collection. There they were, his ten lovely little sheepies, all beautifully lined up from biggest to smallest, heads facing forward, fluffy tails against the wall, all five centimeters apart from one another, all—
    Perfect Peter gasped. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. But what? What? Peter scanned the mantelpiece. Then he saw…
    Nooooo!
    Fluff Puff, his favorite sheep, the one with the pink and yellow nose, was facing the wrong way around. His nose was shoved against the wall. His tail was facing forward. And he was…he was…crooked!
    This could only mean…this could only mean…
    â€œMom!” screamed Peter. “Mom! Henry was in my room again!”
    â€œHenry!” shouted Mom. “Keep out of Peter’s room.”
    â€œI’m not in Peter’s room,” yelled Horrid Henry. “I’m in mine.”
    â€œBut he was,” wailed Peter.
    â€œWas not!” bellowed Horrid Henry.
    Tee-hee.
    Horrid Henry was strictly forbidden to go into Peter’s bedroom without Peter’s permission. But sometimes, thought Horrid Henry, when Peter was being even more of a toady toad than usual, he had no choice but to invade.
    Peter had run blabbing to Mom that Henry had watched Mutant Max and Knight Fight when Mom had said he could only watch one or the other. Henry had been banned from watching TV all day. Peter was such a tattletale frogface ninnyhammer toady poo bag, thought Horrid Henry grimly. Well, just wait till Peter tried to color in his new picture, he’d—
    â€œMOM!” screamed Peter. “Henry switched the caps on my markers. I just put pink in the sky.”
    â€œDid not!” yelled Henry.
    â€œDid too!” wailed Peter.
    â€œProve it,” said Horrid Henry, smirking.
    Mom came upstairs. Quickly Henry leaped over the mess covering the floor of his room, flopped on his bed, and grabbed a Screamin’ Demon comic. Peter came and stood in the doorway.

    â€œHenry’s being horrid,” sniveled Peter.
    â€œHenry, have you been in Peter’s room?” said Mom.
    Henry sighed loudly. “Of course I’ve been in his smelly room. I live here, don’t I?”
    â€œI mean when he wasn’t there,” said Mom.
    â€œNo,” said Horrid Henry. This wasn’t a lie, because even if Peter wasn’t there his horrible stinky smell was.
    â€œHe has too,” said Peter. “Fluff Puff was turned the wrong way around.”
    â€œMaybe he was just trying to escape from your stinky pants,” said Henry. “ I would.”
    â€œMom!” said Peter.
    â€œHenry! Don’t be horrid. Leave your brother alone.”

    â€œI am leaving him alone,” said Horrid Henry. “Why can’t he leave me alone? And get out of my room, Peter!” he shrieked as Peter put his foot just inside Henry’s door.
    Peter quickly withdrew his foot.
    Henry glared at Peter.
    Peter glared at Henry.
    Mom sighed. “The next one who goes into the other’s room without permission will be banned from the computer for a week. And no allowance either.”
    She turned to go.
    Henry stuck out his tongue at Peter.
    â€œTattletale,” he mouthed.
    â€œMom!” screamed Peter.

    Perfect Peter stalked back to his bedroom. How dare Henry sneak in and mess up his sheep? What a mean, horrible brother. Perhaps he needed to calm down and listen to a little music. The Daffy and her Dancing Daisies Greatest Hits CD always cheered him up.
    â€œDance and prance. Prance and dance.
    You say moo moo. We say baa.
    Everybody says moo moo baa baa,” piped Perfect Peter as he put on the Daffy CD.
    Boils on your fat face
    Boils make you dumb.
    Chop Chop Chop ’em off
    Stick ’em on your bum!
    blared the CD player.
    Huh? What was that horrible song? Peter yanked out the CD. It was the Skullbangers singing the horrible