Матильда
Bruce Bogtrotter and the Cake
Hergreathorsyfacehadturnedthecolourofmoltenlavaandhereyeswereglitteringwithfury.SheglaredatBruceBogtrotterwhowassittingonhischairlikesomehugeoverstuffedgrub,replete,comatose,unabletomoveortospeak.Afinesweatwasbeadinghisforeheadbuttherewasagrinoftriumphonhisface.
SuddenlytheTrunchbulllungedforwardandgrabbedthelargeemptychinaplatteronwhichthecakehadrested.SheraisedithighintheairandbroughtitdownwithacrashrightonthetopofthewretchedBruceBogtrotter’sheadandpiecesflewallovertheplatform.
Theboywasbynowsofullofcakehewaslikeasackfulofwetcementandyoucouldn’thavehurthimwithasledge-hammer.Hesimplyshookhisheadafewtimesandwentongrinning.
"Gotoblazes!"screamedtheTrunchbullandshemarchedofftheplatformfollowedcloselybythecook.
