Матильда

Bruce Bogtrotter and the Cake

           Hergreathorsyfacehadturnedthecolourofmoltenlavaandhereyeswereglitteringwithfury.SheglaredatBruceBogtrotterwhowassittingonhischairlikesomehugeoverstuffedgrub,replete,comatose,unabletomoveortospeak.Afinesweatwasbeadinghisforeheadbuttherewasagrinoftriumphonhisface.

           SuddenlytheTrunchbulllungedforwardandgrabbedthelargeemptychinaplatteronwhichthecakehadrested.SheraisedithighintheairandbroughtitdownwithacrashrightonthetopofthewretchedBruceBogtrotter’sheadandpiecesflewallovertheplatform.

           Theboywasbynowsofullofcakehewaslikeasackfulofwetcementandyoucouldn’thavehurthimwithasledge-hammer.Hesimplyshookhisheadafewtimesandwentongrinning.

           "Gotoblazes!"screamedtheTrunchbullandshemarchedofftheplatformfollowedcloselybythecook.

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