Horrid Henry and the Mega-Mean Time Machine (4 page)

“Go away, Peter,” said Henry. “You’re ruining everything.”

“But it’s my turn.”

“GO AWAY!”

“Mom said we could
both
play with the box,” said Peter. “We could cut out windows, make a little house, paint flowers—”

“NO!” screeched Henry.

“But…” said Peter. He stood in the living room, holding his scissors and crayons.

“Don’t you touch my box!” hissed Henry.

“I will if I want to,” said Peter. “And it’s not yours.” Henry had no right to boss him around, thought Peter. He’d been waiting such a long time for his turn. Well, he wasn’t waiting any longer. He’d start cutting out a window this minute.

Peter got out his scissors.

“Stop! It’s a time machine, you toad!” shrieked Henry.

Peter paused.

Peter gasped.

Peter stared at the huge cardboard box. A time machine?
A time machine?
How could it be a time machine?

“It is not,” said Peter.

“Is too,” said Henry.

“But it’s made of cardboard,” said Peter. “And the washing machine came in it.”

Henry sighed.

“Don’t you know anything? If it
looked
like a time machine everyone would try to steal it. It’s a time machine in
disguise
.”

Peter looked at the time machine. On the one hand he didn’t believe Henry for one minute. This was just one of Henry’s tricks. Peter was a hundred million billion percent certain Henry was lying.

On the other hand, what if Henry
was
telling the truth for once and there was a real time machine in his living room?

“If it
is
a time machine, I want to have a turn,” said Peter.

“You can’t. You’re too young,” said Henry.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Perfect Peter stuck out his bottom lip. “I don’t believe you anyway.”

Horrid Henry was outraged.

“Okay, I’ll prove it. I’ll go to the future right now. Stand back. Don’t move.”

Horrid Henry leaped into the box and closed the lid. The Time Machine began to shudder and shake.

Then everything was still for a very long time.

Perfect Peter didn’t know what to do. What if Henry was gone—forever? What if he were stuck in the future?

I could have his room, thought Peter.

I could watch whatever I wanted on TV. I could—

Suddenly the box tipped over and Horrid Henry staggered out.

“Wh—wh—where am I?” he stuttered. Then he collapsed on the floor.

Peter stared at Henry.

Henry stared wildly at Peter.

“I’ve been to the future!” gasped Henry, panting. “It was amazing. Wow. I met my great-great-greatgrandson. He still lives in this house. And he looks just like me.”

“So he’s ugly,” muttered Peter.

“What—did—you—say?” hissed Henry.

“Nothing,” said Peter quickly. He didn’t know what to think. “Is this a trick, Henry?”

“Course it isn’t,” said Henry. “And just for that I won’t let you have a turn.”

“I can if I want to,” said Peter.

“You keep away from my time machine,” said Henry. “One wrong move and you’ll get blasted into the future.”

Perfect Peter walked a few steps toward the time machine. Then he paused.

“What’s it like in the future?”

“Boys wear dresses,” said Horrid Henry. “And lipstick. People talk Ugg language.
You’d
probably like it. Everyone just eats vegetables.”

“Really?”

“And kids have tons of homework.” Perfect Peter loved homework.

“Ooohh.” This Peter
had
to see. Just in case Henry
was
telling the truth.

“I’m going to the future and you can’t stop me,” said Peter.

“Go ahead,” said Henry. Then he snorted. “You can’t go looking like that!” “Why not?” said Peter.

“’Cause everyone will laugh at you.” Perfect Peter hated people laughing at him.

“Why?”

“Because to them you’ll look weird.

Are you sure you really want to go to the future?”

“Yes,” said Peter.

“Are you sure you’re sure?”

“YES,” said Peter.

“Then I’ll get you ready,” said Henry solemnly.

“Thank you, Henry,” said Peter. Maybe he’d been wrong about Henry. Maybe going to the future had turned him into a nice brother.

Horrid Henry dashed out of the living room.

Perfect Peter felt a quiver of excitement. The future. What if Henry really was telling the truth?

Horrid Henry returned carrying a large wicker basket. He pulled out an old red dress of Mom’s, some lipstick, and a black frothy drink.

“Here, put this on,” said Henry. Perfect Peter put on the dress. It dragged onto the floor.

“Now, with a bit of lipstick,” said Horrid Henry, applying big blobs of red lipstick all over Peter’s face, “you’ll fit right in. Perfect,” he said, standing back to admire his handiwork. “You look just like a boy from the future.”

“Okay,” said Perfect Peter.

“Now listen carefully,” said Henry. “When you arrive, you won’t be able to speak the language unless you drink this bibble babble drink. Take this with you and drink it when you get there.”

Henry held out the frothy black drink from his Dungeon Drink Kit. Peter took it.

“You can now enter the time machine.”

Peter obeyed. His heart was pounding.

“Don’t get out until the time machine has stopped moving completely. Then count to twenty-five, and open the hatch very very slowly. You don’t want a piece of you in the twenty-third century, and the rest here in the twenty-first. Good luck.”

Henry swirled the box around and around and around. Peter began to feel dizzy. The drink sloshed on the floor.

Then everything was still.

Peter’s head was spinning. He counted to twenty-five, then crept out.

He was in the living room of a house that looked just like his. A boy wearing a bathrobe and silver waggly antennae with his face painted in blue stripes stood in front of him.

“Ugg?” said the strange boy.

“Henry?” said Peter.

“Uggg uggg bleuch ble bloop,” said the boy.

“Uggg uggg,” said Peter uncertainly.

“Uggh uggh drink ugggh,” said the boy, pointing to Peter’s bibble babble drink.

Peter drank the few drops which were left.

“I’m Zog,” said Zog. “Who are you?”

“I’m Peter,” said Peter.

“Ahhhhh! Welcome! You must be my great-great-great-uncle Peter. Your very nice brother Henry told me all about you when he visited me from the past.”

“Oh, what did he say?” said Peter.

“That you were an ugly toad.”

“I am not,” said Peter. “Wait a minute,” he added suspiciously. “Henry said that boys wore dresses in the future.”

“They do,” said Zog quickly. “I’m a girl.”

“Oh,” said Peter. He gasped. Henry would
never
in a million years say he was a girl. Not even if he were being poked with red hot pokers. Could it be…

Peter looked around. “This looks just like my living room.”

Zog snorted.

“Of course it does, Uncle Pete. This is now the Peter Museum. You’re famous in the future. Everything has been kept exactly as it was.”

Peter beamed. He was famous in the future. He always knew he’d be famous. A Peter Museum! He couldn’t wait to tell Spotless Sam and Tidy Ted.

here was just one more thing…

“What about Henry?” he asked. “Is he famous too?”

“Nah,” said Zog smoothly. “He’s known as What’s-His-Name, Peter’s older brother.”

Ahh. Peter swelled with pride. Henry was in his lowly place, at last. That proved it. He’d really traveled to the future!

Peter looked out the window. Strange how the future didn’t look so different from his own time.

Zog pointed.

“Our spaceships,” he announced.

Peter stared. Spaceships looked just like cars.

“Why aren’t they flying?” said Peter.

“Only at nighttime,” said Zog. “You can either drive ’em or fly ’em.”

“Wow,” said Peter.

“Don’t
you
have spaceships?” said Zog.

“No,” said Peter. “Cars.”

“I didn’t know they had cars in olden days,” said Zog. “Do you have blitzkatrons and zappersnappers?”

“No,” said Peter. “What—”

The front door slammed. Mom walked in. She stared at Peter.

“What on earth…”