The World’s Worst Children Read online

  a stuffed gorilla,

  a model of

  an elephant.

  The boy reached into his blazer pocket. He still had the worksheet his teacher, Mr Numbings, had given him at the start of the school trip. Drew made a note of everything he saw.

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  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  Every single exhibit from the museum floated past, and he wrote them all down.

  “Mars rock, a Neanderthal skull, a marble statue of Charles Darwin, a giant squid, a stuffed vulture, an earthquake machine, a model T-Rex…”

  The list went on and on.

  “A sea horse pickled in a jar, a model volcano, a fossil of a prehistoric fish, a spacesuit, a stuffed giraffe, an old lady clinging on to her shopper – hang on, that’s a real old lady – a model of a woolly mammoth…”

  DRIBBLING DREW

  To his credit, Dribbling Drew spent hours listing everything he saw as the gushing river of drool swept all the museum’s precious exhibits out to sea.

  The next day in class Drew proudly handed in his worksheet to Mr Numbings. Aside from a few spots of dribble, it was perfect. After looking through all of his pupils’ work, the science teacher announced the results.

  “I can reveal that the winner, with one hundred per cent, is Drew!” said Mr Numbings.

  The boy was top of the class for the very first time in his life.

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  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  Before he was promptly expelled!

  As a punishment for destroying everything in the NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM ,Drew was put to work there. His job was to reassemble the diplodocus skeleton that had been recovered from the bottom of the sea. He was not to stop until this giant jigsaw was finished.

  Dribbling Drew didn’t get any sleep

  for the next ten years.

  THIS STORY IS FAR TOO SOGGY!

  BERTHA

  the

  Blubberer

  ENORMOUS TEAR DUCTS

  BIG MOUTH FOR BAWLING

  FINGERS STICKY WITH CHOCOLATE AND CAKE

  BERTHA

  Blubberer

  the

  BERTHA WAS A BLUBBERER. She would sob. She would howl. She would bawl. The little girl was only eight years old, but she must have spent seven of them blubbering.

  Anything and EVERYTHING

  would set her off.

  30

  Loud noise

  Silence

  Bright lights

  The dark

  Small dogs

  Large dogs

  Medium-sized dogs

  Rodents of any kind

  Red socks

  Frogs

  Toads

  Tadpoles especially

  Bouncing balls

  Fireworks

  Dust

  The heat

  The cold

  Ducks, geese and swans

  Orange juice with bits in

  Burnt toast

  Kettles

  Stickers

  Wet grass

  Park benches

  Men with tattoos

  Low-flying aircraft

  The colour purple

  Cat hair

  Rain

  Waterslides

  Mud

  Anything made of plastic

  Christmas crackers

  The raisins in raisin biscuits

  Bouncy castles

  Smells of any kind,

  even nice ones

  Clouds

  Moustaches

  Vegetables

  Burps

  Monobrows

  Nostril hair

  Ear hair

  Anyone in a hat

  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  The little girl had a younger brother called William. From the day he was born Bertha was beastly to him. She hated having to share her parents’ attention. Then one day Bertha discovered a wonderful thing. She could cry and blame it all on her little brother. And the more she cried, the more attention SHE got.

  So the girl thought up more and more wicked plans to make William look horrid. Bertha’s favourite ploy was to cry and cry and cry alone in her bedroom, pretending her brother had hurt her. When Mother bounded up the stairs to see what was wrong, Bertha would blub through a river of tears, “Mama, it was William! He pinched me! William pinched me, hard, on the arm!”

  Sometimes she would elaborate on the lie by actually pinching herself. Bertha would then offer up the very tiny red BLOTCH on her arm as evidence of her brother’s beastliness.

  “ W A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H she would wail.

  BERTHA THE BLUBBERER

  Then Mother would burst into her son’s room next door to confront the boy. Young William was usually reading or playing quietly with his earplugs in. He had endured a lifetime of bawling, and had therefore fashioned earplugs out of marshmallows so he could get on with things in peace.

  “Why did you pinch your darling sister?” Mother would demand.

  “What?” William would reply. It was hard to hear with marshmallows in his ears.

  “And why have you got marshmallows in your ears?”

  William would take out the marshmallows and protest his innocence.

  “I haven’t touched her, Mother,” the boy would plead. “I have been reading in my room the whole time!”

  A H A H A H A H A H A! ”

  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  “A likely story!” Mother would declare. “No pudding for you after dinner tonight!”

  “But… !”

  “No pudding for a week!”

  “But… !”

  “No pudding for a month!”

  Eventually the boy would fall silent. He liked pudding. But not as much as his sister. The little girl loved pudding. Even more than she loved crying.

  Once, at the local bakery, she even offered to swap her brother for a slice of chocolate fudge cake. It was a large slice, but still…

  34

  BERTHA THE BLUBBERER

  And, if there was no pudding for William, Bertha would be allowed to eat his. DOUBLE pudding! All Bertha had to do was roll around on her bed and blubber.

  On the day our story begins, the two children were left alone inside the house. Mother was in the garden, tending to her beloved roses as Father mowed the lawn.

  Spotting that her parents were outside, a fiendish scheme crossed Bertha’s mind. It was her most devilish plot yet, breathtakingly simple and all the more brilliant for it. The plan was this: Bertha would pull out a clump of her hair and then bawl the house down.

  When Mother and Father came running, the finger of blame would be pointed at poor William. Pulling out a clump of hair would appear to be William’s worst crime yet. It trumped pinching, PRODDING, poking, biting, dead arms and DEAD LEGS. He would surely be packed straight off to an orphanage. And Bertha would have DOUBLE pudding – maybe even TRIPLE pudding – every night for the rest of her life.

  It was glorious. Pudding,

  Pudding, and more

  Pudding!

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  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  The wicked little girl tiptoed over to her brother’s room to check he was there. Indeed he was, quietly getting on with his homework with his marshmallow earplugs in as usual.

  Next Bertha sneaked back to her room. She looked at herself in the mirror and began phase one of her plan. She reached up to her head and grabbed a clump of hair. Shutting her eyes, she yanked as hard as she could. Bertha didn’t need to pretend to cry. The pain was so intense that she couldn’t help but yell.

  “ WA H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A ! ! ”

  36

  BERTHA THE BLUBBERER

  She examined the strands of her hair in her hand and the bald spot she had made on her head. It was about the size of a ping-pong ball. Bertha then put her ear to her bedroom door, to see if her parents were on their way. Strangely they were not.

  So Bertha did i
t again.

  “ W A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H! ! !”

  This time

  she yanked

  even more

  hair from her head.

  Now there was another bald spot. This one was the size of a TENNIS ball.

  Still no one came running.

  37

  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  So Bertha did it again.

  “ W A H A H A H A H A ! ”

  And again.

  “ W A H A H A ! ! ”

  And again.

  “W A H A H A H A

  HAHAHAHAHA

  HAHAHAHAHA

  HAHAHAHA

  HAHAHAHA

  38

  BERTHA THE BLUBBERER

  HAHAHAHA

  HAHAHAHAHA

  HAHAHAHAHA

  HAHAHA

  HAHAHA

  HAHAHA

  HAHAHA

  HAHAHA

  HAHA!!!”

  39

  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  The pain was so extreme that Bertha’s eyes were now stinging with tears. She could barely see what she was doing any more.

  Yet still the girl

  yanked out

  more and

  more

  of her hair.

  Eventually, wiping the tears from her face, she stared in the mirror. Bertha was now completely bald, except for one lonely strand of hair on the top of her head.

  40

  BERTHA THE BLUBBERER

  Just then she heard a noise. Bertha’s eyes darted to her bedroom door. To her horror, her mother, father and brother were all looking at her through the door-crack.

  Bertha stared at them for a moment and they stared back at her.

  How was she going to

  explain this?

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  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  Bertha didn’t know what to do, so she did what she always did. The girl screwed up her face, and began bawling.

  “ W A H A H A H A H A H A ! ” It never failed. “ W A H A H A H A H A H A H A ! ” Except THIS time.

  “What on earth are you crying for?” demanded Father.

  “Because, Mama and Papa, that beastly brother of mine pulled out ALL of my hair!” replied the girl through her theatrical sobs.

  William couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of his wicked sister, who had at last been well and truly BUSTED!

  “Actually, you’ve still got one hair sticking out of the top of your head!” proclaimed the boy.

  Bertha examined herself in the mirror again. It did look rather strange having just the one lonely strand, so she plucked it out between her fingers. “W A H A H A H A H A H A H A !”

  “That can’t have hurt,” protested William. “It was just one little hair.”

  Bertha was becoming desperate now.

  “B-b-but YOU pulled out all the others, William, you evil little WRETCH!”

  42

  BERTHA THE BLUBBERER

  “We have been standing here for the last few minutes, young lady,” began Mother.

  “We saw the whole thing,” added Father.

  The smuggest grin spread across William’s already

  smug face.

  “B-b-but…” protested Bertha.

  “No doubt you have

  been doing this all along!”

  accused Mother.

  “B-b-b-b-but…”

  “No pudding for

  you, young lady…”

  declared Father.

  Bertha stopped protesting for a moment. The punishment didn’t seem so bad. Missing one pudding. She had a stash of chocolate under her bed anyway. The girl gave her brother a self-satisfied look. Then, like a prizefighter, Mother delivered the knockout blow.

  “…EVER AGAIN!”

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  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  Bertha froze. This was worse than having no hair. No puddings! But Bertha loved puddings. If she could, she would only eat puddings, puddings, puddings. How could anyone live without:

  CAKE

  and

  ice cream

  and

  meringues and cream

  and

  sponge cake

  and

  ETON MESS

  and

  custard tarts

  and

  French fancies

  and

  treacle sponge

  BERTHA THE BLUBBERER

  and

  apple crumble and custard

  and

  jelly

  and

  spotted dick

  and

  cupcakes

  and

  sticky toffee pudding

  and

  JAM ROLY-POLY

  and

  chocolate mousse

  and

  trifle?

  and

  brandy snaps

  All preferably eaten in one sitting.

  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  “Really, Mama?” pleaded the girl. “This can’t be true. No puddings forever?”

  “Forever and ever and ever,” replied Mother, who was mightily cross that her daughter had fooled her for so long.

  Now every night Bertha would have to watch her brother across the dinner table, savouring every last morsel of not only his delicious pudding, but what would have been Bertha’s too.

  DOUBLE pudding!

  Most evenings Mother would give William her own pudding as well, to make up for his harsh treatment over the years.

  TRIPLE pudding!

  Often the boy would be allowed to eat his father’s pudding too.

  QUADRUPLE pudding!

  46

  BERTHA THE BLUBBERER

  It was torture for the girl to watch her brother eat all her favourite pudding night after night after night while she had not a crumb of one.

  Bakewell tart,

  Arctic roll,

  Eton mess;

  William would lick

  the bowls clean!

  To make matters worse, under the table the boy would pinch his sister’s leg as he scoffed away.

  47

  THE WORLD’S WORST CHILDREN

  “W A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A H A ! ! ! !”

  “He pinched me!” Bertha would cry. Nobody ever believed her.

  BERTHA THE BLUBBERER had blubbered one too many blubbers.

  MY EARS HURT!

  NIGEL

  Nit-Boy

  NITS, NITS AND MORE NITS

  MR HENDERSON

  GREAT BIG BUSH OF HAIR

  NIGEL

  Nit-Boy

  NITS ARE ITCHY. Nits are scratchy. Nits are scritchy. Nits are a NUISANCE.

  Not for Nigel. Nigel was a boy who could never have enough nits. He wanted his hair crawling with them.

  Our tale begins on the morning that Nigel woke up to discover he had a nit living in his hair. Most of us would be appalled and immediately try to evict the nit.

  Not Nigel. He was delighted.

  50

  NIGEL NIT-BOY

  The boy called this nit MR HENDERSON. Nigel didn’t have a dog or a cat or a hamster, so he treated his nit like a pet. He made sure he never combed his hair (nits hate combs). Soon Nigel’s hair was wild and frizzy, like a great big bush.

  A jungle paradise for nits.

  BEFORE

  AFTER

  Nigel fed Mr Henderson titbits of dandruff (nits love dandruff) in the hope of training him up to do tricks, like leaping from one side of Nigel’s head to the other.

  Soon afterwards, Nigel heard of another child at school who had nits. Her name was Tina Ting. Nigel wanted Tina’s nits more than anything in the world. He wanted nits, nits and more nits! At break-time Nigel chased the poor girl round the playground.