had its own TV. You could watch the chefs heat up your food in a giant microwave. Best of all, grown-ups never wanted to hang around for hours and chat. You ordered, gobbled, and left. Heaven.
And what fantastic food! Jumbo burgers. Huge pizzas. Lakes of ketchup. As many fries as you could eat. Fifty-two different ice creams. And not a vegetable in sight.
For some reason Mom and Dad hated Gobble and Go. They’d taken him once, and sworn they would never go again.
And now, unbelievably, Mom was offering.
“Deal!” shouted Henry, in case she changed her mind.
“So we’re agreed,” said Mom. “You eat your vegetables every night for five nights, and then we’ll go.”
“Sure. Whatever,” said Horrid Henry eagerly. He’d agree to anything for a meal at Gobble and Go. He’d agree to dance naked down the street singing “Hallelujah! I’m a nudie!” for the chance to eat at Gobble and Go.
Perfect Peter stopped eating his cauliflower. He didn’t look very happy.
“I always eat
my
vegetables,” said Peter. “What’s my reward?”
“Health,” said Mom.
Day 1. String beans.
“Mom, Henry hasn’t eaten any beans yet,” said Peter.
“I have too,” lied Henry.
“No you haven’t,” said Peter. “I’ve been watching.”
“Shut up, Peter,” said Henry. “Mom!” wailed Peter. “Henry told me to shut up.”
“Don’t tell your brother to shut up,” said Mom.
“It’s rude,” said Dad. “Now eat your veggies.”
Horrid Henry glared at his plate, teeming with slimy string beans. Just like a bunch of green worms, he thought. Yuck.
He must have been crazy agreeing to eat vegetables for five nights in a row. He’d be poisoned before day three.
Then they’d be sorry. “How could we have been so cruel?” Mom would shriek. “We’ve killed our own son,” Dad would moan. “Why oh why did we make him eat his greens?” they would sob.
Too bad he’d be dead so he couldn’t scream, “I told you so!”
“We have a deal, Henry,” said Dad. “I know,” snapped Henry.
He cut off the teeniest, tiniest bit of string bean he could.
“Go on,” said Mom.
Slowly, Horrid Henry lifted his fork and put the poison in his mouth.
Aaaarrrgggghhhhhh! What a horrible taste! Henry spat and spluttered as the sickening sliver of string bean stuck in his throat.
“Water!” he gasped.
Perfect Peter speared several beans and popped them in his mouth.
“Great string beans, Dad,” said Peter.
“So crispy and crunchy.”
“Have mine if you like them so much,” muttered Henry.
“I want to see you eat every one of those string beans,” said Dad. “Or no Gobble and Go.”
Horrid Henry scowled. No way was he eating another mouthful. The taste was too horrible. But, oh, Gobble and Go. Those burgers! Those fries! Those TVs!
There had to be another way. Surely he, King Henry the Horrible, could defeat a plate of greens?
Horrid Henry worked out his battle
plan. It was dangerous. It was risky. But what choice did he have?
First, he had to distract the enemy.
“You know, Mom,” said Henry, pretending to chew, “you were right. These beans
are
very tasty.”
Mom beamed.
Dad beamed.
“I told you you’d like them if you tried them,” said Mom.
Henry pretended to swallow, then speared another bean. He pushed it around his plate.
Mom got up to refill the water jug. Dad turned to speak to her. Now was his chance!
Horrid Henry stretched out his foot under the table and lightly tickled Peter’s leg.
“Look out, Peter, there’s a spider on your leg.”
“Where?” squealed Peter, looking frantically under the table.
Leap! Plop!
Henry’s beans hopped onto Peter’s plate.
Peter raised his head.
“I don’t see any spider,” said Peter.
“I knocked it off,” mumbled Henry, pretending to chew vigorously.
Then Peter saw his plate, piled high with string beans.
“Ooh,” said Peter, “lucky me! I thought I’d finished!”
Tee hee, thought Horrid Henry.
Day 2.
And what fantastic food! Jumbo burgers. Huge pizzas. Lakes of ketchup. As many fries as you could eat. Fifty-two different ice creams. And not a vegetable in sight.
For some reason Mom and Dad hated Gobble and Go. They’d taken him once, and sworn they would never go again.
And now, unbelievably, Mom was offering.
“Deal!” shouted Henry, in case she changed her mind.
“So we’re agreed,” said Mom. “You eat your vegetables every night for five nights, and then we’ll go.”
“Sure. Whatever,” said Horrid Henry eagerly. He’d agree to anything for a meal at Gobble and Go. He’d agree to dance naked down the street singing “Hallelujah! I’m a nudie!” for the chance to eat at Gobble and Go.
Perfect Peter stopped eating his cauliflower. He didn’t look very happy.
“I always eat
my
vegetables,” said Peter. “What’s my reward?”
“Health,” said Mom.
Day 1. String beans.
“Mom, Henry hasn’t eaten any beans yet,” said Peter.
“I have too,” lied Henry.
“No you haven’t,” said Peter. “I’ve been watching.”
“Shut up, Peter,” said Henry. “Mom!” wailed Peter. “Henry told me to shut up.”
“Don’t tell your brother to shut up,” said Mom.
“It’s rude,” said Dad. “Now eat your veggies.”
Horrid Henry glared at his plate, teeming with slimy string beans. Just like a bunch of green worms, he thought. Yuck.
He must have been crazy agreeing to eat vegetables for five nights in a row. He’d be poisoned before day three.
Then they’d be sorry. “How could we have been so cruel?” Mom would shriek. “We’ve killed our own son,” Dad would moan. “Why oh why did we make him eat his greens?” they would sob.
Too bad he’d be dead so he couldn’t scream, “I told you so!”
“We have a deal, Henry,” said Dad. “I know,” snapped Henry.
He cut off the teeniest, tiniest bit of string bean he could.
“Go on,” said Mom.
Slowly, Horrid Henry lifted his fork and put the poison in his mouth.
Aaaarrrgggghhhhhh! What a horrible taste! Henry spat and spluttered as the sickening sliver of string bean stuck in his throat.
“Water!” he gasped.
Perfect Peter speared several beans and popped them in his mouth.
“Great string beans, Dad,” said Peter.
“So crispy and crunchy.”
“Have mine if you like them so much,” muttered Henry.
“I want to see you eat every one of those string beans,” said Dad. “Or no Gobble and Go.”
Horrid Henry scowled. No way was he eating another mouthful. The taste was too horrible. But, oh, Gobble and Go. Those burgers! Those fries! Those TVs!
There had to be another way. Surely he, King Henry the Horrible, could defeat a plate of greens?
Horrid Henry worked out his battle
plan. It was dangerous. It was risky. But what choice did he have?
First, he had to distract the enemy.
“You know, Mom,” said Henry, pretending to chew, “you were right. These beans
are
very tasty.”
Mom beamed.
Dad beamed.
“I told you you’d like them if you tried them,” said Mom.
Henry pretended to swallow, then speared another bean. He pushed it around his plate.
Mom got up to refill the water jug. Dad turned to speak to her. Now was his chance!
Horrid Henry stretched out his foot under the table and lightly tickled Peter’s leg.
“Look out, Peter, there’s a spider on your leg.”
“Where?” squealed Peter, looking frantically under the table.
Leap! Plop!
Henry’s beans hopped onto Peter’s plate.
Peter raised his head.
“I don’t see any spider,” said Peter.
“I knocked it off,” mumbled Henry, pretending to chew vigorously.
Then Peter saw his plate, piled high with string beans.
“Ooh,” said Peter, “lucky me! I thought I’d finished!”
Tee hee, thought Horrid Henry.
Day 2.
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