[ WP ] 2016 ends with a cyborg Hitler leading the Nazis to bomb Times Square seconds before midnight .

Joe Hammond looked away from his tablet, as he shot HD video of the ball drop. No one chanted along with the countdown, the numbers flashing across the jumbo-tron. Something drew the attention of the thousands of spectators, shivering in the glittering cold of a Times Square New Years Eve Celebration. The indiscernible rumble of crowd noise hushed as heads of the tall and the small looked down Broadway, to see what could possibly be causing enough noise to distract from the biggest party in the world. Joe could hear rhythmic thuds, much like marching. The people furthest back began to scream, and like lightning, the attitude of terror rippled through the multitude. What was once a joyous collective of peoples from every continent on the globe mere seconds ago, became a panicked mass of pushing and rushing in every direction. Mounted police spurred their steeds on, trying to get through the crowd to handle the danger, but the people impeded their galloping like a strong current in a river. 
 
 Joe was shoved along in one direction while his friends were pulled in another, his gloved fingers ripped from the pink-mittened hand of Sarah. They had only been on about five dates, but he was already starting to like this one. Her eyes were horrified as their grasp broke, and she shouted his name, her voice lost amongst the yelling. He tried to get his feet under himself, but the crowd was carrying him along. Joe attempted to call out her name, before her face disappeared into the chaos, but someone else's forearm caught him in the neck, knocking the air from his words. 
 
 Painfully, his back collided with something, and the swarm of people pushed past him. He was finally able to catch his breath, realizing it was a piece of scaffolding he had banged into. He could not see a thing; the people rushing past in fear were a blur. In his hand, the other one, the one that was not responsible for holding onto Sarah, he still held his tablet. He grimaced, hating himself for holding onto a stupid gadget instead of her. 
 
 The rhythmic thumping was getting louder, and there seemed to be a chanting along with it. He could not quite make out the words, but they were angry, deep voices. Then the gunfire started. The people ducked and scampered, not knowing where to go or who was shooting at whom. Joe saw no other alternative than to climb the scaffolding. Maybe if he got out of the crowd, and could look down at it, he might find his friends and Sarah. He could even use the zoom feature on the tablet's camera to help him look. He made it to the top, where a few other people huddled. 
 
 Joe held up the device, the video still recording from before, and zoomed in as much as the camera could discern features. He scanned the masses of bodies, flinging themselves in one direction or another. He tried to remember what everyone was wearing. Was Sarah's coat black or brown?! But it was hopeless. There was too much movement to know one person from another. Bullets cracked the wall behind him, and the people on the scaffolding dived for their lives, some jumping straight down into the crowd. Joe peeked over the ledge and the danger was drawing nearer. 
 
 Rows and rows of soldiers marched in perfect formation as they fired weapons at the fleeing people. They did not appear to be quite human, most of them having robotic-like parts. Joe held up his tablet again, recording video of the massacre. The camera showed enough detail that he was able to recognize what they were, or at least what they were attempting to mimic. And at the head of the pack marched the biggest of them all. 
 
 A man's head was positioned on the shoulders of a massive mechanical suit. At first, Joe was not sure if it was simply the decapitated trophy of the robot, mounted on top to instill fear. But the longer he watched, the more he was sure the owner of the head was alive, at least in some sense, as the head turned and pivoted, just like a human's when it aimed it's guns. Though, that metal body was foreign to him and everyone here, that face was unmistakable; that chanting, though Joe did not understand it, recognizably German. 
 
 Joe snorted a mirthless sound, more of exasperation than any other emotion. After everything that the world had been through this year, after all the bad and the ugly and the tedious and tough that 2016 had put them through, Joe never would have believe it could get any worse. Certainly God or the Universe or whatever could n't possibly top themselves here at the very end, after everything humanity had been through. But there he was, in the flesh, or rather, the metal. 
 
 Joe shook his head, and whispered `` Literally Hitler.''
