Horrid Henry's Ambush

Horrid Henry's Ambush Christmas Eve （just a few more hours to go! ) It was Christmas Eve at last. Every minute felt like an hour. Every hour felt like a year. How could Henry live until Christmas morning when he could get his hands on all his loot? Mum and Dad were baking frantically in the kitchen. Perfect Peter sat by the twinkling Christmas tree scratching out ‘Silent Night' over and over again on his cello.

‘Can't you play something else?' snapped Henry. ‘No, ' said Peter, sawing away. ‘This is the only Christmas carol I know. You can move if you don't like it. ' ‘You move, ' said Henry. Peter ignored him. 'Siiiiiiii--lent Niiiiight, ' screeched the cello. AAARRRGH. Horrid Henry lay on the sofa with his fingers in his ears, double-checking his choices from the Toy Heaven catalogue. Big red‘X's' appeared on every page, to help you-know-who remember all the toys he absolutely had to have. Oh please, let everything he wanted leap from its pages and into Santa's sack. After all, what could be better than looking at a huge glittering stack of presents on Christmas morning, and knowing that they were all for you?

Oh please let this be the year when he finally got everything he wanted! His letter to Father Christmas couldn't have been clearer. Dear Father Christmas, I want loads and loads and loads of cash, to make up for the puny amount you put in my stocking last year. And a Robomatic Supersonic Space Howler Deluxe plus attachments would be great, too. I have asked for this before, you know! ! ! And the Terminator Gladiator fighting kit. I need lots more Day-Glo slime and comics and a Mutant Max poster and the new Zapatron Hip-Hop Dinosaur. This is your last chance. Henry PS. Satsumas are NOT presents! ! ! ! ! PPS. Peter asked me to tell you to give me all his presents as he doesn't want any.

How hard could it be for Father Christmas to get this right? He'd asked for the Space Howler last year, and it never arrived. Instead, Henry got . . . vests. And handkerchiefs. And books. And clothes. And a--bleuccccck--jigsaw puzzle and a skipping rope and a tiny supersoaker instead of the mega-sized one he'd specified. Yuck! Father Christmas obviously needed Henry's help. Father Christmas is getting old and doddery, thought Henry. Maybe he hasn't got my letters. Maybe he's lost his reading glasses. Or--what a horrible thought- maybe he was delivering Henry's presents by mistake to some other Henry. Eeeek! Some yucky, undeserving Henry was probably right now this minute playing with Henry's Terminator Gladiator sword, shield, axe, and trident. And enjoying his Intergalactic Samurai Gorillas. It was so unfair!

And then suddenly Henry had a brilliant, spectacular idea. Why had he never thought of this before? All his present problems would be over. Presents were far too important to leave to Father Christmas. Since he couldn't be trusted to bring the right gifts, Horrid Henry had no choice. He would have to ambush Father Christmas. Yes! He'd hold Father Christmas hostage with his Goo-Shooter, while he rummaged in his present sack for all the loot he was owed. Maybe Henry would keep the lot. Now that would be fair.