Read The BFG for Free Online Page B

said. ‘You ought to be ashamed.’
    ‘Other giants is all saying they is wanting to gallop off to England tonight to guzzle school-chiddlers,’ the Bloodbottler said. ‘I is very fond indeed of English school-chiddlers. They has a nice inky-booky flavour. Perhaps I will change my mind and go to England with them.’
    ‘You is disgusting,’ the BFG said.
    ‘And you is an insult to the giant peoples!’ shouted the Bloodbottler. ‘You is not fit to be a giant! You is a squinky little squiddler! You is a pibbling little pitsqueak! You is a… cream puffnut!’
    With that, the horrible Bloodbottling Giant strode out of the cave. The BFG ran to the cave entrance and quickly rolled the stone back into place.
    ‘Sophie,’ he whispered. ‘Sophie, where is you, Sophie?’
    Sophie emerged from under the hem of the black cloak. ‘I’m here,’ she said.
    The BFG picked her up and held her tenderly in the palm of his hand. ‘Oh, I is so happy to be finding you all in one lump!’ he said.
    ‘I was in his mouth,’ Sophie said.
    ‘You was what !’ cried the BFG.
    Sophie told him what had happened.
    ‘And there I was telling him to eat the filthsome snozzcumber and you was all the time inside it!’ the BFG cried.
    ‘Not much fun,’ Sophie said.
    ‘Just look at you, you poor little chiddler!’ cried the BFG. ‘You is all covered in snozzcumber and giant spit.’ He set about cleaning her up as best he could. ‘I is hating those other giants more than ever now,’ he said. ‘You know what I should like?’
    ‘What?’ Sophie said.
    ‘I should like to find a way of disappearing them, every single one.’
    ‘I’d be glad to help you,’ Sophie said. ‘Let me see if I can’t think up a way of doing it.’
     

    Frobscottle and
     
    Whizzpoppers
    By now Sophie was beginning to feel not only extremely hungry, but very thirsty as well. Had she been at home she would have finished her breakfast long ago.
    ‘Are you sure there’s nothing else to eat around here except those disgusting smelly snozzcumbers?’ she asked.
    ‘Not even a fizzwinkel,’ answered the Big Friendly Giant.
    ‘In that case, may I please have a little water?’ she said.
    ‘Water?’ said the BFG, frowning mightily. ‘What is water?’
    ‘We drink it,’ Sophie said. ‘What do you drink?’
    ‘Frobscottle,’ announced the BFG. ‘All giants is drinking frobscottle.’
    ‘Is it as nasty as your snozzcumbers?’ Sophie asked.
    ‘Nasty!’ cried the BFG. ‘Never is it nasty! Frobscottle is sweet and jumbly!’ He got up from his chair and went to a second huge cupboard. He opened it and took out a glass bottle that must have been six feet tall. The liquid inside it was pale green, and the bottle was half full.
    ‘Here is frobscottle!’ he cried, holding the bottle up proud and high, as though it contained some rare wine. ‘Delumptious fizzy frobscottle!’ he shouted. He gave it a shake and the green stuff began to fizz like mad.
    ‘But look! It’s fizzing the wrong way !’ Sophie cried. And indeed it was. The bubbles, instead of travelling upwards and bursting on the surface, were shooting downwards and bursting at the bottom. A pale green frothy fizz was forming at the bottom of the bottle.
     

    ‘What on earth is you meaning the wrong way? ’ asked the BFG.
    ‘In our fizzy drinks,’ Sophie said, ‘the bubbles always go up and burst at the top.’
    ‘ Upwards is the wrong way !’ cried the BFG. ‘You mustn’t ever be having the bubbles going upwards! That the most flushbunking rubbish I ever is hearing!’
    ‘Why do you say that?’ Sophie asked.
    ‘You is asking me why? ’ cried the BFG, waving the enormous bottle around as though he were conducting an orchestra. ‘You is actually meaning to tell me you cannot see why it is a scrotty mistake to have the bubbles flying up instead of down?’
    ‘You said it was flushbunking. Now you say it’s scrotty. Which is it?’ Sophie asked politely.
    ‘Both!’ cried the