Henry loved chaos. Mud pies, prank calls, and rubber spiders were his idea of fun. Nancy, on the other hand, loved order. She sprinkled glitter on her notebooks, spoke French whenever she could (“That’s fabulous, or as the French say, formidable!”), and believed even lemonade should be served in crystal glasses.

They met one fateful summer at Perfect Peter’s fancy manners camp—which Henry only attended because he lost a bet.

From day one, sparks flew. Henry replaced Nancy’s perfume with pickle juice. Nancy retaliated by sewing pink bows all over his hoodie. He called her “Princess Prissypants.” She called him “Barbaric Boy.”

Everyone at camp knew — this was war.

But something changed the day Henry’s prank went wrong. He’d set up a whoopee cushion under Nancy’s chair at the big tea party… but when it popped, the whole table flipped, spilling raspberry tarts everywhere — including on Nancy’s prized tiara.

Nancy looked furious. Then she saw Henry’s face — panicked, apologetic (and covered in jam). Instead of shouting, she laughed. “Henry, you’re horrid,” she said through giggles. “But maybe… a little funny too.”

After that, they started teaming up. Nancy taught Henry how to set up “classy pranks” — like replacing the sugar with salt but in elegant teacups. Henry showed Nancy that a little mess could make life exciting.

By the end of camp, everyone was shocked to see them sitting together — her polishing his shoes, him braiding a flower into her hair (while pretending to hate it).

When Nancy left, she slipped him a note:

“Dear Henry, You’re still horrid. But maybe you’re my kind of horrid. 💕 Nancy”

Henry smiled — and, in true Horrid Henry style, used the note as a paper airplane. But he kept it. Always.