Horrid Henry and the Zombie Vampire

Horrid Henry and the Zombie Vampire “ Isn't it exciting, Henry?” asked Perfect Peter, packing Bunnykins carefully in his Sammy the Snail overnight bag. “ A museum sleepover! With a torch-lit trail! And work sheets! I can't think of anything more fun. ” " I can, " snarled Horrid Henry. Being trapped in a cave with Clever Clare reciting all the multiplication tables from one to a million. Watching Cooking Cuties. Even visiting Nurse Needle for one of her horrible injections. (Well, maybe not that. ) But almost anything would be better than being stuck overnight in Our Town Museum on a class sleepover. No TV. No computers. No comics. Why oh why did he have to do this? He wanted to sleep in his own comfy bed, not in a sleeping bag on the museum’s cold, hard floor, surrounded by photos of old mayors and a few dusty exhibits.

AAARRRRGGGHH. Wasn't it bad enough he was bored all day in school without being bored all night too? Worse, Peter's diaper baby class was coming too. They'd probably have to be tucked in at seven o'clock, when they'd all start crying for their mamas. Ugghh. And then Miss Battle-Axe snarling at them to finish their work sheets, and Moody Margaret snoring, and Anxious Andrew whimpering that he'd seen a ghost. . . Well, no way was he going to that boring old dump without some comics to pass the time. He'd just bought the latest Screamin' Demon with a big article all about vampires and zombies. Yay! He couldn't wait to read it.

Perfect Peter watched him stuff his Mutant Max bag full of comics. “ Henry, you know we're not allowed to bring comics to the museum sleepover, ” said Perfect Peter. “ Shut up and mind your own business, toad, " said Horrid Henry. “ Mom! Henry just called me a toad! ” wailed Peter. “ And he told me to shut up. ” “ Toady toady toady, toady toady toady, " jeered Henry. “ Henry! Stop being horrid or no museum sleepover for you, " yelled Mom. Horrid Henry paused. Was it too late to be horrid enough to get banned from the sleepover? Why hadn't he thought of this before? Why, he could. . . “ Henry! Peter! We have to leave now! ” yelled Dad.

Rats. The children lined up in the museum’s central hall clutching their sleeping bags as Miss Lovely and Miss Battle-Axe ticked off names on a big register. “ Go away, Susan, ” said Moody Margaret. “ After what you did at my house I'm going to sit with Gurinder. So there. ” “ You're such a meanie, Margaret, ” said Sour Susan. “ Am not. " " Are too. " Susan scowled. Margaret was always so mean. If only she could think of a way to pay that old grouch back.

Margaret scowled. Susan was always so annoying. If only she could think of a way to pay that old fraidycat back. Henry scowled. Why did he have to be here? What he'd give for a magic carpet to whisk him straight home to the comfy black chair to watch Terminator Gladiator. Could life get any worse? “ Henwy, " came a little voice next to him. “ I love you Henwy. I want to give you a big kiss. ” Oh no, thought Horrid Henry. Oh no. It was Lisping Lily, New Nick’s little sister. What was that foul fiend doing here? “ You keep away from me, ” said Horrid Henry, pushing and shoving his way through the children to escape her. “ Waaa! ” wept Weepy William as Henry stepped on his foot. “ I want my mama, ” cried Needy Neil as Henry trampled on his sleeping bag.