When you leave the Menace at home with General Auntie

Chapter two: Home (not) alone, with a side of Menacing

Mum and Dad had only been gone for 5 minutes, but it felt like 5 days to Dennis, as he tidied up the mess he had made. And the only reason he was actually tidying was because his aunt had snatched his catapult and peashooter when he had been distracted by his loneliness, and was holding them hostage. He had screamed and shouted and kicked and wailed and begged, but she had threatened to break the catapult and smash the peashooter if he continued, and so he stopped, and then under the same threats he was forced into the horrific labour known as 'tidying up'. And if he paused, his aunt instantly shouted at him to continue.

I used to think mummy and daddy were mean, but they never forced me to do this sort of thing, Dennis thought miserably, trying to pick up squished flowers from the carpet it was merged into. THEY never threatened me. They do shout at me, but that is when I'm a menace. Auntie Pru is shouting for no reason. Besides, she isn't my mummy! She isn't allowed to shout at me!

"Stop your sulking!" Pru's voice cut through Dennis's thoughts, and the boy jumped, dropping the vase he was holding, trying to put it back on the little corner table, right onto his fingers. He pulled them out from underneath it with a wail, and started to sniff loudly. "Stop that noise," Pru ordered. "Why are you behaving like such a baby? It was just a little pressure!" Dennis stopped the noise, but his eyes were still watering as he sucked his fingers, glaring at her mutinously. I wonder how she would feel if she had a huge blooming vase dropped on her and she only had little fingers he thought bitterly, glaring up at her.

Pru tsked loudly, shaking her head. Dennis still glared. Before she could open her mouth the cuckcoo clock in the hallway woke up, and began to chirp loudly. Dennis stopped glaring, and started listening , his brow furrowing in concentration, lifting a finger with each chirp, whispering to himself. "..uh..5...uh..uh...6...6!" he cried in triumph. "It's 6 o'clock! That means... the rest of 6 and then 7...Mum and Dad will be back in ..3, uh, 2 hours!" he smirked at her triumphantly.

"Don't be absurd, how could you possibly know that? You can't count or read, you aren't even in school yet!" Pru scoffed.

"My mummy showed me," he said stubbornly. "She showed me on my fingers with the chirps." What the five year old was trying to say was that although he couldn't read or understand numbers or tell the time by looking at the clock, his mother had taught him to count on his fingers, labeling each finger with the name of the number, and to lift a finger with each chirp of the clock, so he could count which o'clock  it was by sound. Although he had ignored it at the time, now he was glad he knew, because it gave him hope for his parents returning soon, and saving him from his bogey babysitter.

Pru glared at him. She seemed to know exactly what Dennis was thinking, as she roared at him, "Stand up straight, young man, and wipe that expression off your face!" Dennis didn't move. Instead he searched her with his eyes, trying to find his belongings. She had neither peashooter nor catapult. He looked around, and saw them dumped on a low shelf, and he quickly ran to them, climbing onto the table to reach them, and grabbed them, ignoring his aunt's screaming. He poked his tongue out at her, once he had his little weapons safe. He felt like himself again. Dennis the Menace.

"GeddownfromthereATONCEyouhorriblelittlerat!" Pru bellowed in true military fashion, hands on hips, a huge scowl across her face, as she glared at Dennis.

"Make me," Dennis said quietly. The shock on Pru's face was comical, as she stared at the defiant 5 year old.

"What did you say?" Pru asked in a deadly voice.

"Said MAKE ME!" Dennis shouted, and swiftly put his peashooter to his lips, exhaling deeply, before he blew out all the air in his tiny lungs, sending hard, dry peas at his aunt. They hit her smack on her face, and right on the nose. Pru screamed loudly, and a well-aimed pea flew into her enormous mouth and down her throat, and she starting choking, while Dennis laughed gleefully, and took advantage of her predicament. He ran into the kitchen, and grabbed hold of the biggest squishy thing he could see- which was a tomato that was horribly mouldy and really should have been binned last week- and rushed back to the living room, where Pru had expelled the pea . She rounded on Dennis, but the second she opened her mouth, Dennis's mouldy tomato was catapulted up and invaded it, lodging itself in her mouth. A normal tomato would have been bad enough, but this one was so disgustingly mouldy, practically putrid, that it made Pru gag, and her face went as red as the tomato, her eyes watering with the foulness of it, and she tried to spit it out, but accidentally squished it in her mouth, so that it was now all over the inside of it. She was so shocked that she made the hugest mistake of her life, and swallowed almost all of the tomato. The second it slipped down she retched, and dashed to the bathroom, shrieking like a banshee, leaving the triumphant Menace as the victor of the battleground, and he laughed and laughed and laughed. The sound of his aunt vomiting crept to him, and he laughed some more, sitting on the floor, and clutching his round stomach, his tummy hurting from his fit of laughter.

"Serves her right!" he chuckled aloud to herself. "She was so horrible, and now I've given her a taste of her own medicine! A horrible squishy for a horrible meanie! Serve her right for hostaging me toys! You can't get the better of Dennis the Menace!"