My Twisted Wonderland Trash Bin

Ace's Funeral- Crack

All was normal in the heartslabyul dorm; a group of students led by Cater was applying fresh red paint to the rose bushes, Trey was baking, and Riddle was lecturing Ace and Deuce in the lounge, so all was completely normal. Riddle was shouting at the pair, his face red as a tomato, while Ace and Deuce sat sporting Riddle's collars. Nobody knew what the two had done to deserve the housewarden ire; this was just normal for the dorm. Perhaps the two failed another test; maybe they forgot they were on hedgehog duty; maybe they burned one of the great sevens statues; or maybe they broke the priceless chandelier in the cafeteria; no one knew.

Finally, Riddle stopped his tirade, panting and out of breath. He composed himself and gave the two a look; it was the "what do you have to say for yourself?" look. How did Ace respond? Did he stay quiet to avoid more anger? Did he apologize to placate the angry house warden? No, no, of course not. With a shit-eating grin, the freshman asked a furious Riddle, "Has anyone ever told you your anger is disproportionate to your size?"

Deuce could only stay quiet as he stared at his friend in shock and abject horror, already preparing his funeral; rest in peace, Ace Trappola. He was an idiot but a dear friend.

Riddle took a deep breath. The silence was deafening; after a full minute, he finally broke it, "No one has been stupid enough to say it to my face - until now, that is."

"I'm just telling the truth. It can't be healthy for such a small body to contain that much anger."
Deuce tried to stop him from digging a deeper hole by nudging his knee, but dear Ace had a shovel and would keep digging.

"I mean, you're like a little Chihuahua! Yapping and biting at people's heels."
Deuce buried his face in his hands, not wanting to see the upcoming crime scene.

"Ahh, I see.... Deuce, I order you to step out and leave Ace and me to have a chat."

"W..wait! Juice, you're not gonna leave now, are ya?"

"Yup." Deuce hightailed it out, running into the kitchen where the resident mother figure was baking.

"Oh hey, Deuce, did you need anything?"

"... What flowers will Ace want at his funeral?"