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Fugo sucks at dreidel, he always has sucked at dreidel. Will that stop him? Of fucking course not.
“Okay Fugo, you’re up.” Trish said, handing him the wooden top. Him, Trish, and Narancia all sat cross-legged in a sort of circle, in between all of them was their coveted prize, a hefty pile of shiny gold chocolate coins. Fugo had a one in four chance of taking everything home, and dammit he wanted to take it home so bad.
“By the way Narancia if you sing the song one more time I’m going to strangle you” Fugo shot daggers at him, Narancia rolled his eyes.
“Yeah whatever dude.” He mumbled, Fugo shook his head and tried to ignore him, grabbed the dreidel’s stem, and gave it a whirl.
As soon as he let it go, Fugo knew it was a shitty spin, because all his spins where shitty spins. Then Narancia’s voice assaulted his ears.
“I HAD A LITTLE DREIDEL, I MADE IT OUT OF CLAY!~”
Fugo wanted to slam his head into the floor. “Naracia I swear t-“
Fugo’s cries seemed to go unheard by his friend. “AND WHEN ITS DRY AND READY, OH DREIDEL I SHALL PLAY! OH DREIDEL DREIDEL DREIDEL-“ he was promptly shut up by Trish shoving a hand into his cheek.
“Shut up!” She hissed “its gonna land!”
All three of them leaned in to watch the top begin to slow down and land on-
The letter nun. Fugo groaned. Narancia laughed.
“Better luck next time, Fugo!” He chuckled, Fugo only rolled his eyes in response and half heartedly chucked the small wooden dreidel at Narancia’s face. He yelped as it hit him square on his forehead.
“It’s your turn.” Fugo said bluntly, Narancia tenderly touched the small bump on his forehead that had sprung up, winced, and leaned over to pick up the dreidel.
If Fugo was the shittiest dreidel player in the world, Narancia was the golden boy. He had won probably 5 times in the last 3 days, and boy he was set on a streak of 6. He picked it up, and spun it.
“IIIIIIIIIIIIIII HAD A-“
Fugo wonders how quickly Giorno would bail him out if he was arrested for manslaughter.
“....AND WHEN ITS DRY AND READY, OH DREIDEL I SHALL PLAY!” He sung, and pointed at the dreidel as it began to slow down. Seemingly by magic, it landed right as Narancia pointed at it.
It was Gimel.
Fugo wanted to explode.
Narancia gloated as he pulled the golden wrapped chocolate coins to him as if they were poker chips.
“Awww, is vape juice boy sad that he lost?~” he cooed. “Shut the fuck up before I shove those fucking gelt down your windpipe.”
“Oi.” Trish cut in, “No fighting. I don’t wanna tell Bruno Narancia needs to go the hospital again like last week.”
”Somebody say my name?” Bruno leaned in from the doorway, Fugo jumped in surprise. “What?” Bruno laughed “It’s not like I’m a zombie”
“The undead jokes are gonna start getting old soon, you know” Narancia chimed in.
“Ha. No they won’t.” Bruno retorted. “Anyways, latkes are done. They’re in the dining r-“
Bruno couldn’t even finish his sentence before Narancia sprung up and sprinted down the hall. Leaving his pile of gelt on the floor behind him.
Bruno inhaled deeply, “....I’ll see you two there.” He said before slipping out of the doorway, and the muffled sounds of Sticky Fingers were heard as he vanished.
Trish and Fugo looked at each other for a second, and then got up. Both of them taking a few coins from Narancia’s discarded pile and enjoying them in silence as they walked down the corridor to the dining room.
Everyone else was already sitting at the table when they got there. Fugo could still hear Narancia gloating about his latest dreidel escapades to Abbacchio and Giorno, and Mista was sat staring out the window. Mista wasn’t even Jewish, he was just here because there really wasn’t anywhere else to put him.
Fugo and Trish both pulled up a seat at the table, and Giorno gave them a smile as he listened to Narancia go on and on. Fugo gave a small smile and waved back, but Trish’s attention was focused on something much more horrifying.
She tapped Fugo on the shoulder, trying to get his attention. “Hm? What is it, Trish?” he asked, but Trish only replied by slowly lifting a pointed finger at Narancia’s plate.
When Fugo looked over, his face shriveled up in disgust. He had a few latkes on his plate, which was normal, but what was on top of them was what was so horrifying.
“Applesauce?” Trish said, Narancia stopped talking to look at her. “Fucking applesauce?”
“Hey! Applesauce is good!” He retorted”
“No it fucking isn’t Narancia.” Fugo hissed.
“Hey! You eat yours with damn sour cream! You have right to dis me about eating them with applesauce!”
“Sour cream is good! You don’t put applesauce on French fries!”
”Who says I don’t?”
”...literally what is wrong with you.”
Fugo leaned over to Abbacchio “Abba-“”I’m not engaging in your stupid debate.” He responded.
“Fair enough.”
Mista leaned in onto the table “Well I think-“ he began, Narancia cut him off.
“Mista. You are my boyfriend who I love very dearly. But you do not get a say in the Latke debate.” Narancia smiled “so shut up.” He turned around frantically “Giorno! Trish! You gotta back me up here!”
Giorno shifted uncomfortably “uh...I’ve never had a latke, actually. Me and my mother never really practiced,” he explained “I don’t think she wanted to put in the effort to do anything.”
Narancia spun around to Trish “Trish! What about you!”
”Same as Giorno, more or less.” She narrowed her eyes “it comes from....my dad’s side, unfortunately. My mom tried to convert, but it never really went through. Still did some of the holidays though, just not well.”
“But you were playing dreidel with us like 10 minutes ago!” Narancia pointed an accusatory finger at her.
“I’m gonna be honest. I had no idea what I was doing, I was faking it the whole time.” Trish straightened her spine with pride “I think I did a pretty good job, you know?” Narancia rolled his eyes, but Fugo would have to admit he was genuinely impressed.
Giorno picked up a latke from a plate in the center of the table, and took at bite out of it. “I think I’ll just eat them plain for now.” Trish followed suit, taking a latke and taking a bite out of it.
“I agree with Giorno, I’ve always eaten them plain.” She explained
Fugo and Narancia both recoiled, faces twisting. “Dude! Eating them plain is like...worse than anything!” Narancia explained
Fugo nodded “I have to agree with Narancia for once, eating them plain is worse than applesauce.”
“Hey! What do you mean ‘for once!’ applesauce is fucking good!” Narancia retorted.
”Narancia. If this was a year ago I would’ve smashed your plate over your damn head. But since this is not a year ago, and I am now working on my anger issues. So instead I’m going to warn you.” Fugo inhaled deeply “If you don’t stop right fucking now I am going to smash your plate over your damn head.”
Narancia rolled his eyes. “Whatever man-“
Narancia was about to be glad those plates were made out of paper as Fugo grabbed one from the table and bopped him over the head with it. “Ow!” He yelped, and bolted up from his chair to tackle Fugo.
The two wrestled on the ground for a moment until Trish, Mista, and Giorno got up and try to pull them apart. Fugo and Narancia screaming obscenities at one another3 the whole time.
“Hey!” Bruno’s voice came from the door. “What the hell are you all doing!” He ran over in an attempt to try and break up the fight, shouting overlaying screaming.
Abbacchio placed his head in his arms on the table, and sighed deeply.
“Chag sameach” he groaned.