The crowded street seems to go by in a blurr as the young man sits on the curb. A car goes by and hits a puddle, splashing him, filling his white suit with mud, but he doesn't seem to notice, just stares blankly into the street. Another car goes by with the same result. Finally the third car stops on the street and an elderly gentleman gets out and walks over to him with a troubled look on his face.

"Hey, are you okay son?"

The white suited man doesn't answer, just looks right through him.

"Hey, boy I'm talking to you."

Still no reply or motion from the man on the curb. The elderly man shakes his head, mutters something under his breath about drug addicts and gets back in his car. As he drives away he purposely misses the puddle, and it seems to jerk the young man out of his trance, and he shows his first sign of life, slowly lifting himself off the curb. When he gets halfway up a transport goes by, soaking him in even more mud, this time he looks down in disgust, clearly noticing this time, and yells at his misfortune in a heavy British accent.

"YOU BLOODY WANKER! WHAT IN THE BLEEDING HELL ARE YOU DOING? LEARN TO DRIVE YOU BLOODY TWIT!"

He stops and takes a deep breath, some people walking by stop to marvel at this man having an argument by himself. He ignores the gawkers and makes his way down the street with his hands in his pockets not paying attention and he trips over a balding middle aged homeless man lying on the sidewalk, cuddled up in a worn out blanket. The startled man jumps up and shoves the young man.

"What the fuck is your problem pretty boy?"

Without saying anything the suited man turns around and punches the old man square in the nose, instantly dropping him to his knees holding his face. The crowd of people nearby gather in a circle around the scene, but part like the red sea as the suited man continues walking. The elderly man jumps up quickly and gives chase, with a small crowd following him, walking up behind him and tapping him on the shoulder.

"Hey pretty boy what the fuck's your problem?"

The suited man turns around, and looks ready to hit the man again but shows restraint and speaks to the man in a calm voice.

"Look mate, clear off! You don't want any of this, I'm having a real bugger of a day and if you don't get out of my face I'm going to fuck your arse up worse than I already have."

He points toward the blood now leaking out of the man's nose like a faucet.

"That was a cheap shot you limey."

"Oh really than have a butchers of this ya gagging bum!

The suited man takes another swing and lands a punch on the chin, the homeless man crumples to the ground in a heap as the crowd gives a collective gasp. The suited man looks down and screams.

"I TOLD YOU, YA BLEEDING PRAT YANK!"

He spits on the man, as a few people go to help him, and he continues on his walk down the street, nonchalantly with no indication of what just happened, suddenly he is tackled to the ground from behind by two police officers. As the one officer places him in handcuffs the other begins reading his rights.

"You have the right to remain silent, anything you....."

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?! GET OFF ME YOU BLEEDING YANK!"

The suited man begins struggling The cop putting the handcuffs on him puts one hand on his taser.

"Sir stop resisting."

"I'M NOT RESISTING, YOU STUPID WANKER."

He continues squirming, and the officer pulls out the taser and electrocutes the man with 1 200 volts, causing the suited man to convulse and twitch. The officers lift him to his feet and drag him back through the crowd, and the crowd closes behind them, cutting the camera view off, and it fades to black, as the British voice is heard over the crowd, yelling.

"FUCK ALL OF YOU, YA BUNCH OF BLOODY POTATO MASHING YANKS CAN SIT ON MY FINGER AND ROTATE ANTI-CLOCKWISE!"