The flash of the nuke’s impact enveloped Carl’s eyes to a point of near total blindness. It was all done now. The war had been finished without a true victor. His eyes settled enough for him to witness the world’s end before him. He breathed with a frightened quiver as he saw the shockwave from several thousand yards eradicate house after house as it made its way towards him. Now, only seconds remained before he was to be consumed in its fiery inferno of death and annihilation.

In that moment, however, Carl realized he had forgotten something.

Behind him, he began to smell smoke emanating from his toaster in the kitchen. “Shoot!” he yelled. “My Pop Tarts!”