Horrid Henry's Underpants Read Online Free

Horrid Henry's Underpants
Book: Horrid Henry's Underpants Read Online Free
Author: Francesca Simon
Pages:
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fountain but Henry was too quick. Ralph chased him into class but Henry got to his seat just in time. He’d done it! Only forty-five minutes to go until home time. There’d be no depantsing after school with parents around. Henry couldn’t believe it. He was safe at last.
    He stuck out his tongue at Ralph.
    “Nah nah ne nah ne,” he jeered.
    Miss Battle-Axe clapped her claws.
    “Time to change for P.E.” said Miss Battle-Axe.
    P.E.! It couldn’t be—not a P.E. day.
    “And I don’t care if aliens stole your P.E. uniform, Henry,” said Miss Battle-Axe, glaring at him. “No excuses.”
    That’s what she thought. He had the perfect excuse. Even a teacher as mean and horrible as Miss Battle-Axe would not force a boy to do P.E. without underpants.
    Horrid Henry went up to Miss Battle-Axe and whispered in her ear.
    “Forgot your underpants, eh?” barked Miss Battle-Axe loudly.

    Henry blushed scarlet. When he was king he’d make Miss Battle-Axe walk around town every day wearing underpants on her head.
    “Well, Henry, today is your lucky day,” said Miss Battle-Axe, pulling something pink and lacy out of her pocket. “I found these in the boys’ bathroom.”
    “Take them away!” screamed Horrid Henry.

3
HORRID HENRY’S SICK DAY
    Cough! Cough!
    Sneeze! Sneeze!
    “Are you all right, Peter?” asked Mom.
    Peter coughed, choked, and spluttered.
    “I’m OK,” he gasped.
    “Are you sure?” said Dad. “You don’t look very well.”
    “It’s nothing,” said Perfect Peter, coughing.
    Mom felt Peter’s sweaty brow.
    “You’ve got a temperature,” said Mom. “I think you’d better stay home from school today.”
    “But I don’t want to miss school,” said Peter.
    “Go back to bed,” said Mom.

    “But I want to go to school,” wailed Peter. “I’m sure I’ll be—” Peter’s pale, sweaty face turned green. He dashed up the stairs to the bathroom. Mom ran after him.
    Blecccccccchhhh. The horrible sound of vomiting filled the house.
    Horrid Henry stopped eating his toast. Peter, stay at home? Peter, miss school? Peter, lying around watching TV while he, Henry, had to suffer a long hard day with Miss Battle-Axe?

    No way! He was sick, too. Hadn’t he coughed twice this morning? And he had definitely sneezed last night. Now that he thought about it, he could feel those flu germs invading. Yup, there they were, marching down his throat.
    Stomp, stomp, stomp marched the germs. Mercy! shrieked his throat. Ha ha ha gloated the germs.
    Horrid Henry thought about those spelling words he hadn’t learned. The map he hadn’t finished coloring. The book report he hadn’t done.
    Oww. His throat hurt.
    Oooh. His tummy hurt.
    Eeek. His head hurt.
    Yippee! He was sick!
    So what would it be?
    Math or Mutant Max?
    Reading or relaxing?
    Commas or comics?
    Tests or TV?
    Hmmm, thought Horrid Henry. Hard choice.
    Cough. Cough.
    Dad continued reading the paper.
    COUGH! COUGH! COUGH! COUGH! COUGH!
    “Are you all right, Henry?” asked Dad, without looking up.
    “No!” gasped Henry. “I’m sick, too. I can’t go to school.”
    Slowly Dad put down his newspaper.
    “You don’t look ill, Henry,” said Dad.
    “But I am,” whimpered Horrid Henry. He clutched his throat. “My throat really hurts,” he moaned. Then he added a few coughs, just in case.
    “I feel weak,” he groaned. “Everything aches.”
    Dad sighed.
    “All right, you can stay home,” he said.
    Yes! thought Horrid Henry. He was amazed. It usually took much more moaning and groaning before his mean, horrible parents decided he was sick enough to miss a day of school.
    “But no playing on the computer,” said Dad. “If you’re sick, you have to lie down.” Horrid Henry was outraged.
    “But it makes me feel better to play on the computer,” he protested.
    “If you’re well enough to play on the computer, you’re well enough to go to school,” said Dad.
    Rats.
    Oh well, thought Horrid Henry. He’d get his blanket, lie on the sofa
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