"A substance of pure destruction," said Gerald. "Weapons crafted of it harm any they are wielded against- weak or powerful, mortal or immortal. It's not an instant kill, though, and cutting off an arm shouldn't be a fatal strike."
"I have no idea," said Gerald, extricating himself from the arm. "But likely the fact that your sword is a mordite weapon has something to do with it."
With a satisfying swish, the sword passed straight through the arm. The painful sound of tearing metal and breaking wires filled the air. Dr. Who Octopus screamed, shying back in agony as the arm holding Gerald fell to the floor in a frenzy of twitching motion and flying sparks.
"NoOo0O!" he screamed in a distorted voice. "wH4t HAVe you DoNe...?"
Around, the remaining uncrushed un- minions began to jerk erratically as their controller suffered the electrical equivalent of a nervous breakdown.