you do a full 360-degree whirlwind attack; the pickaxe tearing the air

your foe produces the coconut & his arm to the way of your spinning death-blade

he regrets that decision instantly, as you, the suddenly-hardcore berserker, drive the whirlwind dagger into your foe's previously closed-&-functional melon; he reduces to a pile

you let go of the weep-on; holding your arms above your head; letting the rock fall to the dirt proclaim victory man becomes dominant