He pulled out an enormous bazooka. “Lesson three! There is nothing more American than!”

“Ah, I know this one,” said Sam. “You just said it: Grilling.”

“WRONG! There is nothing more American than Fourth of July fireworks!”

A festive red white and blue rocket erupted from the bazooka. Vergil sliced it in half. This did nothing, since the rocket landed on a flaming pit anyway. Vergil and Sam were consumed by a freedom-loving inferno. They careened out of the pit and crashed into a picnic table.

“Why…” said Sam. “Is it always Americans? Every single time.”

Vergil stood up and lent Sam one of the defibrillators. “Heal yourself.”

Wilson was upon them once again. Vergil exchanged a glance with Sam. “Why don’t we teach him a lesson of our own?”

- Ragnarust Round 3