Horrid Henry's Underpants (4 page)

And then Horrid Henry saw what underpants he had on. Not his Driller Cannibal underpants. Not his Marvin the Maniac ones either. Not even his old Gross-Out ones, with the holes and the droopy elastic.

He, Horrid Henry, was wearing frilly pink lacy girls’ underpants covered in glittery hearts and bows. He’d completely forgotten he’d stuffed them into his underpants drawer last month so Ralph wouldn’t see them. And now, oh horror of horrors, he was wearing them.

Maybe it’s a nightmare, thought Horrid Henry hopefully. He pinched his arm. Ouch! Then, just to be sure, he pinched William.

“Waaaaah!” wailed Weepy William.

“Stop weeping, William!” said Miss Battle-Axe. “Now, what number do I need—”

It was not a nightmare. He was still in school, still wearing pink underpants.

What to do, what to do?

Don’t panic, thought Horrid Henry. He took a deep breath. Don’t panic. After all, no one will know. His pants weren’t see-through or anything.

Wait. What pants was he wearing? Were there any holes in them? Quickly Horrid Henry twisted round to check his bottom.

Phew. There were no holes. What luck he hadn’t put on his old jeans with the big rip but a new pair.

He was safe.

“Henry! What’s the answer?” said Miss Battle-Axe.

“Pants,” said Horrid Henry before he could stop himself.

The class burst out laughing.

“Pants!” screeched Rude Ralph.

“Pants!” screeched Dizzy Dave.

“Henry. Stand up,” ordered Miss Battle-Axe.

Henry stood. His heart was pounding.

Slip!

Aaaarrrghhh! The lacy ruffle of his pink underpants was showing! His new pants were too big. Mom always bought him clothes that were way too big so he’d grow into them. These were the falling-down ones he’d tried on yesterday. Henry gripped his pants tight and yanked them up.

“What did you say?” said Miss Battle-Axe slowly.

“Ants,” said Horrid Henry.

“Ants?” said Miss Battle-Axe.

“Yeah,” said Henry quickly. “I was just thinking about how many ants you could divide by—by that number you said,” he added.

Miss Battle-Axe glared at him.

“I’ve got my eye on you, Henry,” she snapped. “Now sit down and pay attention.”

Henry sat. All he had to do was tuck in his T-shirt. That would keep his pants up. He’d look stupid but for once Henry didn’t care.

Just so long as no one ever knew about his pink lacy underpants.

And then Henry’s blood turned to ice. What was the latest craze on the playground? Depantsing. Who’d started it? Horrid Henry. Yesterday he’d chased Dizzy

Dave and pulled down his pants. The day before he’d done the same thing to Rude Ralph. Just this morning he’d depantsed Tough Toby on the way into class.

They’d all be trying to depants him now.

I have to get another pair of underpants, thought Henry desperately.

Miss Battle-Axe passed around the math worksheets. Quickly Horrid Henry scribbled down: 3, 7, 41, 174, without reading any questions. He didn’t have time for long division.

Where could he find some other underpants? He could pretend to be sick and get sent home from school. But he’d already tried that twice this week. Wait. Wait. He was brilliant. He was a genius. What about the Lost and Found? Someone, some time, must have lost some underpants.

DING! DING!

Before the playtime bell had finished ringing Horrid Henry was out of his seat and racing down the hall, holding tight to his pants. He checked carefully to make sure no one was watching, then ducked into the Lost and Found. He’d hide here until he found some underpants.

The Lost and Found was stuffed with clothes. He rummaged through the mountains of lost shoes, socks, jackets, pants, shirts, coats, lunchboxes, hats, and gloves. I’m amazed anyone leaves school wearing
anything
, thought Horrid

Henry, tossing another sweatshirt over his shoulder.

Then—hurray! Underpants. A pair of blue underpants. What a wonderful sight.

Horrid Henry pulled the underpants from the pile. Oh no. They were the teeniest, tiniest pair he’d ever seen. Some toddler must have lost them.

Rats, thought Horrid Henry. Well, no way was he wearing his horrible pink underpants a second longer. He’d just have to trade underpants with someone. And Horrid Henry had the perfect someone in mind.

Henry found Peter in the playground playing tag with Tidy Ted.

“I need to talk to you in private,” said Henry. “It’s urgent.”

“What about?” said Peter cautiously.

“It’s top secret,” said Henry. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dave and Toby sneaking toward him.

Top secret! Henry never shared top secret secrets with Peter.

“Quick!” yelped Henry. “There’s no time to lose!”

He ducked into the boys’ bathroom. Peter followed.

“Peter, I’m worried about you,” said Horrid Henry. He tried to look concerned.

“I’m fine,” said Peter.

“No you’re not,” said Henry. “I’ve heard bad things about you.”

“What bad things?” said Peter anxiously. Not—not that he had run across the carpet in class?

“Embarrassing rumors,” said Horrid Henry. “But if I don’t tell you, who will? After all,” he said, putting his arm around Peter’s shoulder, “it’s my job to look after you. Big brothers should look out for little ones.”

Perfect Peter could not believe his ears.

“Oh, Henry,” said Peter. “I’ve always wanted a brother who looked out for me.”

“That’s me,” said Henry. “Now listen. I’ve heard you wear baby underpants.”

“I do not,” said Peter. “Look!” And

he showed Henry his Daffy and her Dancing Daisies underpants.

Horrid Henry’s heart went cold. Daffy and her Dancing Daisies! Ugh. Yuck. Gross. But even Daffy would be a million billion times better than pink underpants with lace ruffles.

“Daffy Daisy are the most babyish underpants you could wear,” said Henry. “Worse than wearing a diaper. Everyone will tease you.”

Peter’s lip trembled. He hated being teased.

“What can I do?” he asked.

Henry pretended to think. “Look. I’ll do you a big favor. I’ll swap my underpants for yours. That way
I’ll
get teased, not you.”

“Thank you, Henry,” said Peter. “You’re the best brother in the world.” Then he stopped.

“Wait a minute,” he said suspiciously, “let’s see your underpants.” “Why?” said Henry.

“Because,” said Peter, “how do I know you’ve even got underpants to swap?”

Horrid Henry was outraged.

“Of course I’ve got underpants,” said Henry.

“Then show me,” said Peter.

Horrid Henry was trapped.

“OK,” he said, giving Peter a quick flash of pink lace.

Perfect Peter stared at Henry’s underpants.

“Those are your underpants?” he said.

“Sure,” said Horrid Henry. “These are big boy underpants.”

“But they’re pink,” said Peter.

“All big boys wear pink,” said Henry.

“But they have lace on them,” said Peter.

“All big boys’ pants have lace,” said Henry.

“But they have hearts and bows,” said Peter.

“Of course they do, they’re big boy underpants,” said Horrid Henry. “You wouldn’t know because you only wear baby underpants.”

Peter hesitated.

“But…but…they look like—girls’ underpants,” said Peter.

Henry snorted. “Girls’ underpants! Do you think
I’d
ever wear girls’ underpants? These are what all the big kids are wearing. You’ll be the coolest kid in class in these.”

Perfect Peter backed away.

“No I won’t,” said Peter.

“Yes you will,” said Henry.

“I don’t want to wear your smelly underpants,” said Peter.

“They’re not smelly,” said Henry. “They’re brand new. Now give me your underpants.”

“NO!” screamed Peter.

“YES!” screamed Henry. “Give me your underpants!”

“What’s going on in here?” came a voice of steel. It was the principal, Mrs. Oddbod.

“Nothing,” said Henry.

“There’s no hanging around the bathroom at playtime,” said Mrs. Oddbod. “Out of here, both of you.”

Peter ran out the door.

Now what do I do, thought Horrid Henry.

Henry ducked into a stall and hid the pink underpants on the ledge above the third toilet. No way was he putting those underpants back on. Better Henry No Underpants than Henry Pink Underpants.

At lunchtime Horrid Henry dodged Graham. He dodged Toby by the climbing frame. During last play Dave almost caught him by the water 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.