Mr Twits Revenge

A/N: This story takes place after Mrs Twit tricked Mr Twit into eating worms and is a piece I made for school some time ago. I thought it would be fun to put it up here. Who knows, maybe someone will read it. At least I had fun writing it.

Disclaimer: Mr and Mrs Twit are Roald Dahl's characters, I'm just playing with them for a while. : )

After dinner Mr Twit went to his bedroom to start to think of a revenge to Mrs Twits trick with the worms in the spaghetti. He thought and he thought, but not until the morning had an idea formed in his head. He sent a letter with a photo on his wife to a TV-channel he knew was going to have a contest about who had the ugliest face in the country and the nextweek the phone rang and Mr Twit answered.

"Hello" he said.

"Hello, I'm calling from 'The Exciting TV-channel', is Mrs Twit in?" a male voice replied.

"No, she's out, can I leave a message?" Mr Twit asked with a smile growing on his face.

"Yes, tell her that she got in." said the man at the other end and sounded amused and disgusted at the same time.

"I'll tell her that" Mr Twit replied and, after getting details on the recording, he hung up the phone. Some time later Mrs Twit came in from the garden. He told her a man from a TV-channel had rung and told him she got into the contest where they would decide who had the most beautiful face in the country. "We're going to the program on Tuesday next week." he finished and then went out in the garden to let what he'd just said sink in.

Next Tuesday they got into their car and Mr Twit drove them to 'The Exciting TV-channel''s studio. They walked into the entry hall and Mr Twit stopped Mrs Twit there and said:

"I'll go over to the receptionist and figure out where we're supposed to go." and then walked over to the reception. He got a description of the way from her and went back to Mrs Twit.

"We have to go down that corridor and then it's the second door to the right", he told her.

They went down the corridor and Mrs Twit knocked on the second door on the right. A woman opened and they were showed into a studio. In the room were seven other women, all very ugly.

"Is that my competition?" Mrs Twit asked with scorn. "I can easily beat them all." At that she let out a cackle that sounded so horrible, the woman that lead the way had to put her hands over her ears.

A few minutes later, the competition began. The cameras started rolling; all lights went out and in came the compere:

"Hello, ladies! Welcome to this contest in which we will decide which one of you has the ugliest face in the country! First price is a trip into the desert where you will learn how to live alone. The heat will do good to dehydrating you and will therefore fix your blemishes."

Through all this Mrs Twits face had gone paler and paler, and now she opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. So she just stood there opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish.

Mr Twit who had been watching her face throughout it all began to cackle. All the people in the studio began to stare at him.

"Cut!" the director shouted.

"You there!" he continued and pointed at Mr Twit. "Out!"

Suddenly Mr Twit was surrounded by a whole bunch of people who were shuffling him towards the door and then out of the studio. They slammed the door in his face and then resumed their former places.

"Okay!" shouted the director. It seemed as if the only thing he could do was shout.

"Camera! And... action!"

The compere continued his talk for awhile and then:

"And now it's time for three very special persons to come in. Say hello to the judges!" Suddenly, applause came from a speaker and a TV-screen showed a bunch of people sitting in rows applauding. And in came three persons: two men and a woman. The woman wore a red dress that went all the way down to her feet and she had a really long necklace with pearls on her that had been doubled so it laid in two rows. She had her hair up in some kind of twist and had impeccable make-up. Needless to say, she was thin as a model.

The first man had a red costume that looked horrendous. To that he wore a green tie that clashed horribly with the costume but he seemed to be well-known and no one cared.

The last one of the judges was a black man with a black costume and a white t-shirt under the jacket. They sat down at a long table and then turned to look at the ones that were going to compete against each other.

The judges then got to pinpoint exactly why the competitors were so ugly. After they had done that, they gave the competitors points on how ugly their faces were.

The only thing left now was for the ones who had watched the program from the stands to vote.

"All of you who think woman nr 1 has the ugliest face vote now!" the compere called out. For a while, the studio was completely silent.

"The ones who vote for the second woman, vote now!"

And so it went on. Mrs Twit was the fifth woman and when they were done with the vote and an assistant came with the envelope with the results in, she started to feel a little dizzy.

"And the one that wins this competition and gets a trip to the desert is…"

Here the compere opened the envelope and looked at the competitors, smiling brightly. Then he took up the card that was inside.

Mrs Twit felt herself starting to sway back and forth.

"Number…" At this Mrs Twit fainted, too strained of all the tension. No one noticed.

"Seven!" the compere called out. "Congratulations Ms. Greenwood! You're going to the Sahara desert!"

A woman in a green dress, which by the way looks horrible, stepped forward and got a diploma and flowers. She then hugged the compere who got a shocked look on his face.

Then, Mrs Twit woke up and looked around her. She saw the woman next to the compere and let out a cackle. She wasn't the one! Soon, her whole body was shaking and she let out one uncontrollable cackle after the next. People began to stare at her and then the producer came forward.

"Cut!" shouted the director.

"Mrs Twit-" the producer said. That got Mrs Twits attention and she stopped cackling and looked up at him.

"We are going to have a competition about who has the most horrible laughter and I was wondering-"

Mrs Twit didn't wait to hear what he wondered. She ran the fastest her legs could take her out of the studio. She vowed to herself that she would never again set her foot in that place.

Fin