Horrid Henry Robs the Bank by Francesca Simon

“It’s not fair!” howled Horrid Henry. “I want a Hip-Hop Robot dog!”
    Horrid Henry needed money. Lots and lots and lots of money. His parents didn’t need money, and yet they had tons more than he did. It was so unfair. Why was he so brilliant at spending money, and so bad at getting money?
    And now Mom and Dad refused to buy him something he desperately needed.
    â€œYou have plenty of toys,” said Mom.
    â€œWhich you never play with,” said Dad.
    â€œThat’s ’cause they’re all so boring!” screeched Henry. “I want a robot dog!”
    â€œToo expensive,” said Mom.
    â€œToo noisy,” said Dad.
    â€œBut everyone has a Hip-Hop Robot Dog,” whined Henry. “Everyone but me .”
    Horrid Henry stomped out of the room. How could he get some money?
    Wait. Maybe he could persuade Peter to give him some. Peter always had tons of cash because he never bought anything.
    Yes! He could hold Peter’s Bunnykins for ransom. He could tell Peter his room was haunted and get Peter to pay him for ghostbusting. He could make Peter donate to Henry’s favorite charity, Child in Need… Hip-Hop Robot Dog, here I come, thought Horrid Henry, bursting into Peter’s bedroom.

    Perfect Peter and Tidy Ted were whispering together on the floor. Papers were scattered all around them.
    â€œYou can’t come in my room,” said Peter.

    â€œYes I can,” said Henry, “’cause I’m already in. Pooh, your room stinks.”
    â€œThat’s ’cause you’re in it,” said Peter.
    Henry decided to ignore this insult.
    â€œWhatcha doing?”
    â€œNothing,” said Peter.
    â€œWe’re writing our own newspaper like Mrs. Oddbod suggested in assembly,” said Ted. “We’ve even got a Tidy with Ted column,” he added proudly.
    â€œA snooze paper, you mean,” said Henry.
    â€œIt is not,” said Peter.
    Henry snorted. “What’s it called?”
    â€œ The Best Boys’ Busy Bee ,” said Peter.
    â€œWhat a stupid name,” said Henry.
    â€œIt’s not a stupid name,” said Peter. “Miss Lovely said it was perfect.”
    â€œPeter, I have a great idea for your paper,” said Henry.
    â€œWhat?” said Peter cautiously.
    â€œYou can use your newspaper for Fluffy’s litter box.”
    â€œMOOOM!” wailed Peter. “Henry’s being mean to me.”
    â€œDon’t be horrid, Henry!” shouted Mom.
    â€œPeter is a poopsicle, Peter is a poopsicle,” chanted Henry.
    But then Peter did something strange. Instead of screaming for Mom, Peter started writing.
    â€œNow everyone who buys my newspaper will know how horrid you are,” said Peter, putting down his pencil.
    Buy? Buy?
    â€œWe’re selling it in school tomorrow,” said Ted. “Miss Lovely said we could.”
    Sell? Sell?
    â€œLemme see that,” said Henry, yanking the paper out of Peter’s hands.
    The Busy Bee’s headline read:
    PETER IN THE GOOD AS GOLD BOOK FOR THE FOURTH TIME THIS MONTH
    Horrid Henry snorted. What a worm. Then his eye caught the second headline:
    COMPUTER BAN FOR HORRID BOY
    Henry was banned from playing games on the computer today because he was mean to his brother Peter and called him wibble pants and poopsicle. The Busy Bee hopes Henry has learned his lesson and will stop being such a big meanie.
    â€œYou’re going to… sell this?” spluttered Henry. His name would be mud. Worse than mud. Everyone would know what a stupid toad brother he had. Worse, some people might even believe Peter’s lies.
    And then suddenly Horrid Henry had a brilliant, spectacular idea. He’d write his own newspaper. Everyone would want to buy it. He’d be rich!

    He could call his newspaper The Hourly Howler and charge 25¢ a copy. If he could write seven editions a day, and sell each copy to 500 people, he’d make…