Myrtle wouldn’t be called; Myers surely wouldn’t call poor Myrtle into audition because he HATED her. Everyone hated her. When Professor Myers called the next person, Myrtle swooped right in before anyone could protest and stopped only once she was floating above the stage.

“I am here to audition for this play!” she announceed. “Since there is no GHOST REPRESENTATION in it!” Her voice became so high pitched that it broke midway through the statement. “And since I’m a GHOST and can’t actively look up monologues -” She shot Professor Myers the dirtiest look she could muster because that WAS COMPLEEEEEEEETELY UNFAIR, “I’ve gone and made up my OWN play!” Her shrill whine was enough to break the sound barrier.

She cleared her throat, and began:

“At FIRST, I was SOOOOOoOOOooOoooo afraaaaaaaaid!” she wailed and clutched her hands over her unbeating heart. “I was absolutely PETRIFIED.” Myrtle made her body stiffen in rigidity. “I thought I could nEVER EVER EVER liiiiiiIIIIIIIVEEEEEEEEEEEEEE - “ Did he need singing? “WITHOUT YOU BY MY SIDE!” She rolled her head back while sweeping a hand across her forehead, her back arching as she waltzed across the stage. Her voice broke each time she shrieked.

“I spent EEVERRRRRRRRRRRRY night thinking about…..about…..” She teared up. “A-B-B-B-BOUT all you DID ME WRONG!” The ghost suddenly dropped into a lying down position, sprawling out three inches above the stage floor. “BUT I GREWWWWW SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO STRONG! And I learned….Oh I LEAAAAAAARNED how to…. How to - “ Her voice broke again as she burst into fake tears. But the tears came so easily for Myrtle now. “HOW TO GET ALOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG!”

She straightened up and gave a deep bow, then moaned. “AND THAT IS MY AUDITION, AND IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT YOU’RE GHOSTIST!”



*SHRIEEEEEEEEEEEEEK*

Myrtle flew off into the ceiling.