When Naughty Henry slept in, his mom called, “Time to get up, sweetums. We don’t want to be late for school!”
“I want to be late for school,” Naughty Henry said. “I don’t want to go at all. I want to go to Maddy’s party again.”
He stayed in bed thinking about the party – the bouncy house, the screaming games, and most of all the food. Naughty Henry had eaten pizza, popcorn, pop, cake, ice cream, and then went back and ate four more helpings.
It was so good, he had a fifth helping. Naughty Henry!
“Get up, Henry!” His mother insisted.
When Henry fell out of bed, he felt strange. His stomach stuck out like a beach ball. When he walked, he rolled from side to side. He tapped his tummy. It kaboomed like a drum.
Extra-round Naughty Henry spent so long getting dressed and playing his tummy-drum, that he was late for school.
“Henry, why are you late?” his teacher said.
“I’m sick.” Henry pointed to his big, round stomach.
“Hmm,” the teacher said. “It looks like someone ate too much.”
“He ate half of Maddie’s cake,” Isaac said. He poked Henry’s tummy. It made a slow grrr-growl like an angry tiger.
“Don’t wake it up,” Naughty Henry warned.
Too late! His tummy was awake now. It rumbled and grumbled. It growled louder and louder.
Henry put his hands over his stomach and squished it down. But nothing would stop the noise.
Then, worst of all, his beach ball stomach began to lose its air.
Henry burped seven times.
And then he began to fart.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
The first farts popped like little firecrackers in his bottom.
“Ooooh, what smells?” Maddie held her nose.
“Me!” Naughty Henry shouted.
He leaned forward so the grumbly growls could get free. And they did. His bottom sputtered and muttered. The stink rose into the classroom.
“Yuck!” Isaac yelled. “Naughty Henry’s farts will use all the air!”
“Nonsense,” said the teacher. But she scrunched up her face as another round of smells exploded into the classroom.
“I’m really good at farting,” Henry told her.
“Here comes another one!” he shouted.
The kids all ran to the other side of the classroom. Naughty Henry climbed on his chair and ripped out a giant fart.
“Henry, get down!”
“I’m the king of farts!” Henry called out. And just to prove it he tooted out a fartly song.
His basketball stomach was getting smaller. But it still rumbled and grumbled.
“SIT DOWN!” roared the teacher.
Henry and the other kids sat down. The teacher opened all the windows.
When lunch time came, Henry’s bottom went on roaring and tooting. No one would sit at Henry’s table. He scowled. He was the king of farts. But maybe he wanted his friends too.
His stomach and bottom grumbled and tooted and whistled and hooted.
The poppity-wheezes kept bursting from his bottom. Naughty Henry, the king of farts, thought maybe his tummy should stop now.
But it didn’t. He farted on the bus. He farted during dinner. He even farted in bed so that his sheets became a skunky balloon.
Naughty Henry tried not to cry. He didn’t want to be the king of farts any more.
All night long his bottom bubbled and tooted. And then finally, all the air had gone from his tummy.
Henry admired his flat skinny stomach in the mirror when he got dressed for school.
When he stood in line to go into his classroom, his bottom let out one short, very stinky fart.
“Oooh nooo!” All the kids cried.
“Last one,” Naughty Henry said. “Until Ethan’s birthday party next week!”
“Oooh nooo!” All the kids said again.
He smiled happily. He was the king of farts forever.