The World’s Worst Children Read online

  PREVIOUSLY BY DAVID WALLIAMS:

  The Boy in the Dress

  Mr Stink

  Billionaire Boy

  Gangsta Granny

  Ratburger

  Demon Dentist

  Awful Auntie

  Grandpa’s Great Escape

  ALSO AVAILABLE IN PICTURE BOOK:

  The Slightly Annoying Elephant

  The First Hippo on the Moon

  The Bear Who Went Boo!

  The Queen’s Orang-utan

  DAVID WALLIAMS

  For

  Tom & George,

  two of the World’s

  Best Children

  D.W.

  TONY ROSS

  For

  Wendy,

  & the Savannahs

  T.R.

  First published in paperback in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2016

  This electronic edition published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2016

  Text © David Walliams 2016

  Illustrations © Tony Ross 2016

  Cover lettering of author’s name © Quentin Blake 2016

  SOURCE EDITION ISBN: 978-0-00-819703-2

  EPub Edition © David Walliams and Tony Ross 2016 ISBN: 9780008197087

  HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been

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  Visit our website at: www.harpercollins.co.uk

  THANK YOUS

  I would like to thank…

  Tony Ross, illustrator – who, aged 6, filled a tin with tadpoles, left it in his grandmother’s bedroom and forgot about it… until, several weeks later, his grandmother’s screams reminded him as dozens of frogs hopped across her bed!

  Ann-Janine Murtagh, my publisher – who as a little girl refused to go to sleep each night until every one of her 6 big sisters and brothers had told her a story – often making bedtime well past midnight!

  Charlie Redmayne, CEO – who let his little sister take the blame for stealing a packet of jelly from the kitchen when in fact it was him – he never admitted the truth. Until now.

  Paul Stevens, my literary agent – who as a little boy cut a hole in his dad’s best suit jacket.

  Ruth Alltimes, my editor – who, aged 5, poured a jug of orange squash over her little sister’s head.

  Rachel Denwood, Publishing and Creative Director – who, aged 6, decided to see how many peas she could put up her nose.

  Sally Griffin, Designer – who, aged 7, picked ALL her mum’s daffodils to sell in her ‘flower shop’.

  Anna Lubecka, Designer – who as a young girl cut off all of her hair with nail scissors.

  Nia Roberts, Art Director – who, aged 6, painted over her parents’ wedding photos with red nail varnish.

  Kate Clarke, my cover designer – who as a young child cut up her mum’s favourite – and very expensive – scarf, to use in a collage she was working on.

  Geraldine Stroud, PR Director – who as a toddler mixed the contents of her mum’s dressing table into a cake-shaped, perfumed mulch and spread it all over the house.

  Sam White, my publicist – who as a small child did a wee in her mum’s bed and didn’t tell her.

  Nicola Way, Marketing Director – who, aged 5, kidnapped her little brother and the dog and went on the run for a whole hour!

  Alison Ruane, Brand Director – who, aged 10, would bake chilli powder scones and make her little brothers eat them.

  Georgia Monroe, Desk Editor – who as a toddler splattered nappy cream all over her bedroom when she was meant to be having a nap!

  Tanya Brennand-Roper, my audio editor – who as a young child collected worms from the garden and put them in the kitchen so her mum would scream!

  INTRODUCTION

  by Raj, a newsagent.

  Please, please, please, a thousand pleases, and yet one more please

  DO NOT READ THIS BOOK!

  If you have already bought it, destroy it. If you are browsing through it in your local librarium, take it outside, tear it up, stamp on it, tear it up again just to be sure and then bury the pieces DEEP underground. To be totally safe.

  This AWFUL book, and it is awful, especially the speling, will have a very bad influence on young minds. It will give children lots and lots of ideas about how to be even naughtier than they already are, and some of them are already EXTREMELY naughty. It is an outrage and I for one will be calling for this book to be banned. Mr Wallybottom (or whatever his stupid made-up name is) should be ashamed of himself.

  Why can’t the oversized BUFFOON who looks like a cupboard in a suit write a nice book about nice children who do nice things? Why not write a story about a little girl who is kind to a kitten? Or a tale about a nice boy who helps an injured butterfly cross a busy road? Or a story about two children who go to a meadow and pick wild flowers for their mummy who is very ill with a slight headache?

  It could be called

  THE WORLD’S NICEST, KINDEST, BESTEST, MOST

  LOVELIEST CHILDREN IN THE WHOLE WORLD.

  But no.

  Instead we get a BUCKETLOAD of stories about children with bottoms that don’t stop blowing off, children who teach their nits to do terrible things and children who won’t stop picking their noses until they create the world’s largest booger.

  These are children who I would NEVER ever allow in my newsagent’s shop, which I am extremely proud to say was recently voted best newsagent in the parade.*

  * RAJ’S NEWSAGENT IS CURRENTLY THE ONLY NEWSAGENT IN THE PARADE. SAYING THAT, MY SHOP DID COME SECOND LAST YEAR IN A POLL OF BEST NEWSAGENTS. THE LAUNDERETTE CAME FIRST.

  I would never let the frankly APPALLING children featured in this book take advantage of the very special offers in my shop, such as my 103 sherbert fountains for the price of 102, or buy your own bodyweight in mints, get one mint free. Hurry while stocks last!**

  ** ACTUALLY I HAVE PLENTY OF STOCK, AND IT IS ALREADY OUT OF DATE, SO THERE IS NO NEED TO HURRY. MAYBE A BRISK WALK WOULD DO IT.

  What’s worst of all is that I am hardly in this book. It’s an insult! I am by far the most cleverest and handsomest character that ever came out of Mr Wallywilly’s dark and troubled mind! Yet I was only asked to contribute an introduction, and was under strict instructions that said introduction be no longer than two pages. Two pages!

  How dare Mr Willywillybumbum? Surely I, the

  CONTENTS

  Dribbling

  DREW

  p.11

  BERTHA

  Blubberer

  the

  p.29

  NIGEL

  Nit-Boy

  p.49

  Miss PETULA

  Perpetual-Motion

  p.76

  PETER

  Picker

  p.110

  Grubby

  GERTRUDE

  p.130

  BRIAN WONG,

  WHO WAS NEVER,

  Ever Wrong

  p.154

  Windy

  MINDY

  p.174

  Earnest

  ERNEST

  p.203

  SOFIA

  Sofa


  p.235

  Dribbling

  DREW

  DRIBBLE OF DROOL

  POOL OF DROOL

  DAMP SHOES AND SOCKS

  FROM THE POOL OF DROOL

  Dribbling

  DREW

  ONCE UPON A TIME there was a boy named Drew. Drew dribbled a lot. This wasn’t just normal everyday dribbling, the odd globule of gob gloop running down your chin. Oh no, this was dribbling on an INDUSTRIAL SCALE. Here was a boy who could dribble litre upon litre of dribble a day.

  12

  DRIBBLING DREW

  Now you may wonder why Dribbling Drew dribbled so much. Well, it was because he was an incredibly lazy individual. If he could, he would sleep 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. And, as Drew snoozed, he drooled.

  “ZZZZZZZ.”

  PLOP!

  “ZZZZZZZZZZ.”

  PLOP!

  went the drool as it landed on the floor.

  On school mornings, the boy would have to be dragged out of bed by his feet. If he had his way, Drew would be wheeled to school every morning in his bed. And, as soon as he arrived at school, he would go straight back to sleep.

  “ZZZZZZZ.”

  PLOP!

  “ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.”

  PLOP!

  Drew liked nothing more than having a nice long snooze during his lessons. He had even been known to take a sleeping bag into school. That way he could doze through every single subject.

  13

  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  PE was a hard one to sleep through, but Drew found a way. For example, during football matches he would ask to be in goal and then climb up on to the net and have a nap. If any of the kids scored a goal, he would moan if they celebrated too loudly and woke him up.

  Because Drew slept through every lesson, he always found himself bottom of the class.

  14

  DRIBBLING DREW

  When Drew SNOOZED in lessons, he would dribble all over his desk.

  “ZZZZZZZ.”

  PLOP!

  “ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.”

  PLOP!

  “ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.”

  PLOP!

  The dribble would trickle down to the floor, where a large puddle of drool would collect. If the lesson was DREADED double history, the dribble would end up as something of a pool.

  No one knew quite what was in Drew’s dribble. It was transparent like water, but thick and sticky like glue.

  15

  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  One time his history teacher, Miss Past, ran over to Drew’s desk to shout at him for falling asleep in class again.

  The

  unfortunate

  lady slipped on the dribble,

  shot across

  the floor

  and flew straight out of the

  window.

  “AAARRRGGGHH!”

  She was found upside down in a nearby hedgerow with her tweed skirt over her head, her BIG frilly knickers flapping in the wind.

  16

  DRIBBLING DREW

  The day our story starts, there was a school trip to the

  NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM

  This was a wondrous place, full of all sorts of treasures from Moon rock to dinosaur skeletons. The museum even housed a life-sized cast of a blue whale.

  As Drew’s class pulled up outside the museum in the school coach, Mr Numbings, the science teacher, handed out his dreaded worksheets. “Now listen carefully, children. On these worksheets I want you to make a list of all the exhibits you see in the museum today!”

  “Do we have to, sir?” moaned Dribbling Drew, stifling a yawn. Dozing on the coach for an hour had tired the boy out and now he was ready for bed. A pool of drool had collected at his feet.

  “Yes, Drew, we do have to!” yelled the teacher. “And I want you to stay awake during this visit!” Mr Numbings turned back to the rest of the class. “Now, everyone, the pupil who writes down the most exhibits will come TOP of the class. So keep looking and listening the whole time. Right, out you get!”

  17

  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  As they walked in through the museum’s giant wooden doors, all the children marvelled at the huge skeleton of a diplodocus, which took pride of place in the great hall. But Drew simply YAW N E D .

  Then he broke away from his teacher and classmates and found a nice quiet place to nap. It was on top of a glass case housing a stuffed dodo, a bird that had become extinct centuries before. No one would disturb him up there.

  Drew

  ladder.

  Climbed

  as a

  up, using a

  stuffed

  giraffe

  He lay down

  and closed his eyes.

  Then the boy slept

  and slept and slept.

  And dribbled

  and dribbled

  and dribbled.

  18

  DRIBBLING DREW

  The boy could sleep absolutely anywhere. Standing up during a rock concert, hanging UPSIDE DOWN from a tree, even on a rollercoaster as everyone around him screamed.

  This particular day, Drew slept for so long that he was still asleep when the NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM was locked up for the night. Without anyone realising, he was still there when all the lights were turned off.

  19

  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  All night Drew slept and, as he slept, he dribbled.

  “ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.”

  PLOP!

  “ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.”

  PLOP!

  “ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.”

  PLOP!

  Drew dribbled and dribbled and dribbled. Then he dribbled some more. The spot of drool beneath him spread into a puddle. Soon it was a lake of spittle. By dawn, Drew’s sea of dribble had filled the entire NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM

  20

  DRIBBLING DREW

  In the morning, Winston, the burly security guard, arrived bright and early to unlock the doors and open the museum as he did every day. However, this was no ordinary day. The first thing Winston noticed was a transparent fluid oozing underneath the doors.

  “That’s very strange,” he thought out loud. “Maybe one of the daft old professors has left a tap running.”

  Next, the security guard dipped the toe of his boot into the liquid, and realised it couldn’t be water from a leaky pipe. Whatever this was, it was THICK and STICKY.

  Worried that the museum might have been flooded, Winston f lung open the giant wooden doors as fast as he could.

  Nothing could have prepared Winston for what happened next…

  21

  WHOOSH!

  A TIDAL wave of drool

  washed him CLEAN off his feet

  and he found himself travelling

  at SPEED down the street.

  22

  “WAAAH!”

  the big man screamed like a baby.

  Closely behind the security guard floated some of the biggest exhibits from the museum. A stuffed polar bear, the life-sized cast of the blue whale, even the diplodocus skeleton.

  They all bobbed along the streets of London on this rushing river of dribble.

  23

  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  Atop the glass case that housed the dodo was Drew. In all the commotion, he had finally woken up from his long sleep. As he floated down the road, the flood of his own spittle destroyed everything in its path.

  Cars, lorries and even buses

  were swept off the ground and

  began bobbing

  along on the

  colossal

  ooze of

  drool.

  24

  DRIBBLING DREW

  Drew leaped off the on to the roof of a nearby building.

  From that safe place he watched more of the exhibits from the museum pass by.

  Giant birds’ eggs,