Roald Dahl's Mischief and Mayhem Read online

  Puffin Books by Roald Dahl

  The BFG

  Boy: Tales of Childhood

  Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

  Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator

  Danny the Champion of the World

  Dirty Beasts

  The Enormous Crocodile

  Esio Trot

  Fantastic Mr. Fox

  George’s Marvelous Medicine

  The Giraffe and the Pelly and Me

  Going Solo

  James and the Giant Peach

  The Magic Finger

  Matilda

  The Minpins

  The Missing Golden Ticket and Other Splendiferous Secrets

  Revolting Rhymes

  The Twits

  The Vicar of Nibbleswicke

  The Witches

  The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC

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  A Penguin Random House Company

  Published in Great Britain by Penguin Books Ltd., 2013

  First published in the United States by Puffin Books, an imprint of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2015

  Text copyright © 2013 by Roald Dahl Nominee Ltd

  Illustrations copyright © 2013 by Quentin Blake

  Extracts taken from: James and the Giant Peach first published 1961; Matilda first published 1988;

  Charlie and the Chocolate Factory first published 1964; Boy first published 1984;

  The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More first published 1977; The BFG first published 1982;

  The Enormous Crocodile first published 1978; George’s Marvellous Medicine first published 1981;

  Danny the Champion of the World first published 1975; The Witches first published 1983;

  Fantastic Mr Fox first published 1970; Revolting Rhymes first published 1982;

  The Twits first published 1980; Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator first published 1972

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  Puffin Books ISBN 978-0-698-16449-9

  Version_1

  Contents

  Also by Roald Dahl

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Introduction

  Sticky

  From James and the Giant Peach

  The Boby-Trapped Peach

  The Platinum-Blond Man

  Surprise Shampoo

  Augustus Gloop Goesup the Pipe

  The Hot Chocolate That Isn’t

  The Hat and the Superglue

  Sticky Rocket

  Spot the Mischief-Maker

  Gooey Questions

  Tricky

  The Matron

  The Really-Sweet Trick

  The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar

  A Quick Card Trick

  Capture

  Four Ways to Trick a Giant

  The Enormous Crocodile

  How to Disguise Yourself as a Coconut Tree

  Spot the Mischief-Maker

  Terrible Tricks

  Yucky

  BruceBogtrotter and the Cake

  Trick

  The Marvellous Plan

  A Recipe for Chocolate and Brussels Sprout Pie

  Goat’s Tobacco

  Super Poop

  Corkers

  The Bag of Stink

  Spot the Mischief-Maker

  What’s in Mr Twit’s Beard?

  Mischievous

  Into the Wood

  Poach an egg not a Pheasant

  Good-bye, Violet

  Turn Yourself into a Giant Blueberry

  The Recipe

  The Great Mouse Trick

  Boggis Chicken House

  How to Steal a Prehistoric Creature

  Spot the Mischief-Maker

  True or False?

  Simply Vile

  Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf

  Red Riding Hoody

  The Glass Eye

  The Joke Eye

  The Frog

  Hedgehog Bed

  Something Nasty in the Lifts

  The Daring Plan to Trap a Vermicious Knid

  Spot the Mischief-Maker

  Vile Endings

  What?

  Answers

  Yes, you. Stop right there. Don’t move. Are you an adult? Oh, dear. I’m sorry. This book is absolutely NOT meant for you. Kindly close the pages and go and do something grown-up instead. (Perhaps you could make a roast dinner with a hundred vegetables or creosote a fence or something.) Off you go. Have they gone? Good. Hello, non-adult! This book is meant for YOU. But be warned. It contains mischief and mayhem of such extreme naughtiness that you will need the cunning of Fantastic Mr Fox and the cleverness of Matilda to continue. You’re cunning AND clever? Excellent. We’ll get along just fine. Now, read on.

  If you’ve bought, borrowed or been given this TRULY NAUGHTY book, then you surely already know of Roald Dahl. But, just in case you’re one of the 27 people on the planet who haven’t heard of him, let me tell you a little more.

  ROALD DAHL

  was ONE of

  THE BEST

  STORYTELLERS

  EVER.

  There. Done. I beg your pardon? You’d like to know even more than that? Well, why didn’t you say so?

  Roald Dahl was born in Wales in 1916 to Norwegian parents. He had four sisters. Sadly, both his father and his eldest sister died when he was very young. And then when he wasn’t much older – just nine years old – his mother sent him away to boarding school in England. Roald Dahl hated it so much that he pretended to have appendicitis so that he would be sent home. He was sent home.

  But when he was found out he was sent back to school again.

  In between detention and homework and being achingly homesick, Roald spent the rest of his school years trying to outwit his VERY STRICT teachers and the FORMIDABLE matron. And testing new chocolate bars for a VERY FAMOUS chocolate company. Luckily, he also loved making up stories. (He wrote it all down in a book called Boy, if you’d like to find out EVEN MORE.)

  The rest of Roald Dahl’s life is like something out of a storybook too. He worked in London, which was chilly, and Africa, which wasn’t. He flew fighter-planes in the Second World War, which was very scary. (Unfortunately, he crashed one in the desert, which was even scarier.) He was a spy. Shhhh. And THEN he became a writer. Phew.

  Roald Dahl wrote stories that were funny and amazing and scary and sad. There were unlikely heroes and fearsome villains. There were funny bits and not-so-funny bits and buckets and buckets of MISCHIEF. And MAYHEM.

  Don’t forget the mayhem. Was it his time at boarding school that turned him into a trickster? Was it his fabulously dark sense of humour? Was it just because he liked making people laugh? Who knows? Roald Dahl, that’s who.

  Perha
ps you’ve already read some of Roald Dahl’s books? (If not, why not? Go to your nearest library straight away, please.) If so, you’ll know that they are chock full of HILARIOUS tricks. Have you ever read one of his particularly mischievous tricks and – after checking that no one is watching you, of course – thought, I could do that? You have? Marvellous. The thing is MOST GROWN-UPS have read Roald Dahl’s books too. (And if they haven’t, then they’re obviously numpties and not worth tricking.) So the last thing you want to do is copy one of his tricks exactly, because everyone will be expecting you to, say, superglue a hat to their head or turn their hair platinum blond just like Matilda. However, if you take one of Roald Dahl’s tricks and turn it into something just a LITTLE BIT different, then the results can be AMAZING.

  Go on, do it.

  Roald Dahl would.

  The tricks and pranks and japes and jokes and jests and stunts in this book have been given a star rating to indicate the level of difficulty

  One-star tricks are for total beginners in the art of trickery.

  Two-star tricks are for more experienced tricksters and pranksters.

  Three-star tricks should only be attempted by magicians, conjurers, professional jokers, astrophysicists or senior members of MI6 and the FBI. Approach with caution (and a member of the armed services, if you have one handy).

  In which James and his friends trick a flock of seagulls into giving them a lift.

  In a few minutes everything was ready.

  It was very quiet now on the top of the peach. There was nobody in sight – nobody except the Earthworm.

  One half of the Earthworm, looking like a great, thick, juicy, pink sausage, lay innocently in the sun for all the seagulls to see.

  The other half of him was dangling down the tunnel.

  James was crouching close beside the Earthworm in the tunnel entrance, just below the surface, waiting for the first seagull. He had a loop of silk string in his hands.

  The Old-Green-Grasshopper and the Ladybird were further down the tunnel, holding on to the Earthworm’s tail, ready to pull him quickly in out of danger as soon as James gave the word.

  And far below, in the great stone of the peach, the Glow-worm was lighting up the room so that the two spinners, the Silkworm and Miss Spider, could see what they were doing. The Centipede was down there too, exhorting them both frantically to greater efforts, and every now and again James could hear his voice coming up faintly from the depths, shouting, ‘Spin, Silkworm, spin, you great fat lazy brute! Faster, faster, or we’ll throw you to the sharks!’

  ‘Here comes the first seagull!’ whispered James. ‘Keep still now, Earthworm. Keep still. The rest of you get ready to pull.’

  ‘Please don’t let it spike me,’ begged the Earthworm.

  ‘I won’t, I won’t. Ssshh . . .’

  Out of the corner of one eye, James watched the seagull as it came swooping down towards the Earthworm. And then suddenly it was so close that he could see its small black eyes and its curved beak, and the beak was open, ready to grab a nice piece of flesh out of the Earthworm’s back.

  ‘Pull!’ shouted James.

  The Old-Green-Grasshopper and the Ladybird gave the Earthworm’s tail an enormous tug, and like magic the Earthworm disappeared into the tunnel. At the same time, up went James’s hand and the seagull flew right into the loop of silk that he was holding out. The loop, which had been cleverly made, tightened just the right amount (but not too much) around its neck, and the seagull was captured.

  ‘Hooray!’ shouted the Old-Green-Grasshopper, peering out of the tunnel. ‘Well done, James!’

  Up flew the seagull with James paying out the silk string as it went. He gave it about fifty yards and then tied the string to the stem of the peach.

  ‘Next one!’ he shouted, jumping back into the tunnel. ‘Up you get again, Earthworm! Bring up some more silk, Centipede!’

  ‘Oh, I don’t like this at all,’ wailed the Earthworm. ‘It only just missed me! I even felt the wind on my back as it went swishing past!’

  ‘Ssshh!’ whispered James. ‘Keep still! Here comes another one!’

  So they did it again.

  And again, and again, and again.

  And the seagulls kept coming, and James caught them one after the other and tethered them to the peach stem.

  ‘One hundred seagulls!’ he shouted, wiping the sweat from his face.

  ‘Keep going!’ they cried. ‘Keep going, James!’

  ‘Two hundred seagulls!’

  ‘Three hundred seagulls!’

  ‘Four hundred seagulls!’

  The sharks, as though sensing that they were in danger of losing their prey, were hurling themselves at the peach more furiously than ever, and the peach was sinking lower and lower still in the water.

  ‘Five hundred seagulls!’ James shouted.

  ‘Silkworm says she’s running out of silk!’ yelled the Centipede from below. ‘She says she can’t keep it up much longer. Nor can Miss Spider!’

  ‘Tell them they’ve got to!’ James answered. ‘They can’t stop now!’

  ‘We’re lifting!’ somebody shouted.

  ‘No, we’re not!’

  ‘I felt it!’

  ‘Put on another seagull, quick!’

  ‘Quiet, everybody! Quiet! Here’s one coming now!’

  This was the five hundred and first seagull, and the moment that James caught it and tethered it to the stem with all the others, the whole enormous peach suddenly started rising up slowly out of the water.

  ‘Look out! Here we go! Hold on, boys!’

  But then it stopped.

  And there it hung.

  It hovered and swayed, but it went no higher.

  The bottom of it was just touching the water. It was like a delicately balanced scale that needed only the tiniest push to tip it one way or the other.

  ‘One more will do it!’ shouted the Old-Green-Grasshopper, looking out of the tunnel. ‘We’re almost there!’

  And now came the big moment. Quickly, the five hundred and second seagull was caught and harnessed to the peach-stem . . .

  And then suddenly . . .

  But slowly . . .

  Majestically . . .

  Like some fabulous golden balloon . . .

  With all the seagulls straining at the strings above . . .

  The giant peach rose up dripping out of the water and began climbing towards the heavens.

  Unless you happen to have a giant-fruit-and-veg shop nearby, you’re unlikely to have a giant peach. (Or a giant earthworm, for that matter.) DON’T PANIC. For this trick, you will need one average, run-of-the-mill, really quite normal-sized peach, available from all good fruit-and-veg shops. But it must be VERY RIPE.

  YOU WILL NEED:

  One ripe peach

  One jelly worm (the edible sort)

  One cocktail stick or a toothpick

  One fruit bowl

  WHAT YOU DO:

  Being VERY careful, spear your peach with a cocktail stick or toothpick and wiggle it about a bit so that you’ve made a small tunnel in your sticky, juicy fruit.

  Poke the jelly worm into the tunnel. Leave a little bit of the worm sticking out of the peach, just like in James and the Giant Peach.

  Put the booby-trapped peach into the fruit bowl.

  Wait.

  If a grown-up does not immediately decide that they would like to sink their teeth into a delicious peach then you may have to fill their heads with fruity, sticky, juicy thoughts until they can stand it no longer and simply have to eat a peach RIGHT NOW.

  Get ready to double up with laughter when the grown-up bites into the ripe peach and thinks they have eaten A REAL LIVE EARTHWORM.

  Double up with laughter. Or run.

  In which Matilda swaps OIL OF VIOLETS
HAIR TONIC for PLATINUM BLONDE HAIR-DYE EXTRA STRONG and makes her father see RED. Actually, yellow. Hmm. Blond, really.

  Mr Wormwood kept his hair looking bright and strong, or so he thought, by rubbing into it every morning large quantities of a lotion called OIL OF VIOLETS HAIR TONIC. A bottle of this smelly purple mixture always stood on the shelf above the sink in the bathroom alongside all the toothbrushes, and a very vigorous scalp massage with OIL OF VIOLETS took place daily after shaving was completed. This hair and scalp massage was always accompanied by loud masculine grunts and heavy breathing and gasps of ‘Ahhh, that’s better! That’s the stuff! Rub it right into the roots!’ which could be clearly heard by Matilda in her bedroom across the corridor.

  Now, in the early morning privacy of the bathroom, Matilda unscrewed the cap of her father’s OIL OF VIOLETS and tipped three-quarters of the contents down the drain. Then she filled the bottle up with her mother’s PLATINUM BLONDE HAIR-DYE EXTRA STRONG. She carefully left enough of her father’s original hair tonic in the bottle so that when she gave it a good shake the whole thing still looked reasonably purple. She then replaced the bottle on the shelf above the sink, taking care to put her mother’s bottle back in the cupboard. So far so good.

  At breakfast time Matilda sat quietly at the dining-room table eating her cornflakes. Her brother sat opposite her with his back to the door devouring hunks of bread smothered with a mixture of peanut-butter and strawberry jam. The mother was just out of sight around the corner in the kitchen making Mr Wormwood’s breakfast which always had to be two fried eggs on fried bread with three pork sausages and three strips of bacon and some fried tomatoes.

  At this point Mr Wormwood came noisily into the room. He was incapable of entering any room quietly, especially at breakfast time. He always had to make his appearance felt immediately by creating a lot of noise and clatter. One could almost hear him saying, ‘It’s me! Here I come, the great man himself, the master of the house, the wage-earner, the one who makes it possible for all the rest of you to live so well! Notice me and pay your respects!’