Myrtle eyed Nearly Headless Nick when he floated in. "How are things in Gryffindor Tower?" she asked innocently. "Do all your students still...have their heads?"

Oh that was a good one, very very punny. Myrtle was proud of herself. "Teeeeheeeheeeheee," she giggled, floating upside-down past Nick and Helena toward the door. Myrtle was about to peep into the corridor to see if any other ghosts were coming when, like the nightmare that never ended, in came the worstest, ugliest, meanest, stupidest, hideousest, annoyingest, obnoxiousest ghost who ever existed.

"PEEEEEEVESSSSSS! You---you PICKLE-HEADED PRUNE!" Poor Myrtle promptly burst into tears when the poltergeist started insulting her. She covered her face with her pearly hands and floated quickly to hide behind a tall, covered piece of furniture. "Booo hooo hooooo...hooo bwwoooo hooo hooo...." her moans echoed all around the room, permeating every corner and assaulting the eardrums of all who heard.

She paused briefly in her wailings, however, as her brain just now absorbed Peeves' words. "A boyyy? Was he handsome? How old was he? How did he die? Does he still have his head?" No offence to Nick, of course.