“I’m in charge now. You had your chance and now it’s my turn. And what I want is for everything to die.”

“But Mr Mushroom Cloud,” someone might say, “surely you don’t want me to die. I’ve never hurt anyone in my life.”

“That’s very nice of you, I’m sure,” the mushroom cloud would say, “but I’m still going to kill you.”

“But Mr Mushroom Cloud,” someone else might say, “I was about to go on holiday. Can’t you wait until I get back before you kill me?”

“No, I can’t,” the mushroom cloud would say.

“But Mr Mushroom Cloud,” someone else might say, “I was about to tell my friend that I love her.”

“Well, you should have done it earlier, shouldn’t you?” the mushroom cloud would say.

“But Mr Mushroom Cloud,” someone else might say, “I’ve only just been born.”

“What’s that got to do with it?” the mushroom cloud would say.

“But Mr Mushroom Cloud, surely you’re not going to kill me?” a little toadstool growing in a field might say. “We’re like family.”

“Nice try, little toadstool,” the mushroom cloud would say, “but just because you’re the same shape as me doesn’t mean that you’re going to get special treatment.”

Toadstool is a spore-bearing fruiting body of a fungus, typically in the form of a rounded cap on a stalk, especially one that is believed to be inedible or poisonous. Just like a toad. On a stool.