Microchip and hydrochloric acid:

But last night I had this dream where there was a man sitting inside a room talking to a video camera. Like a video log. He was holding up a microchip and had said something bad about it. Then he said, well at least I can still kill myself with it. At this point he demonstrated slicing through his white t-shirt. I broke into the room stole it from him and threw it across the street. It shattered into a million pieces. A news woman knelt over it. Her knees rested in a pool of hydrochloric acid. She looked at me and told me the chip was actually the man’s brain and there was very little chance I could recover it.