The man is endlessly making falafels. His hands flip non stop, falafel after falafel.
He does this to make a living for his little son. He lost his wife some time ago (he showed me her photo), and he's flipping falafels day after day in hope his son gets better education than him.
Or something like that.
He looks like a sleepy, dazed wolf, with gray wispy hair but all the more handsome. He's quite jaded, and wears an expression of mellow fatigue. But he's not exasperated at all with the way life is going--rather, something of greater value is occupying his thoughts. A bigger reason, covered in faint mystery.

The following scene, we see him on a boat with a few of his closest mates. The boat is patrolling the Thames, the murky brownish waters making me nostalgic all over. 
The boat's tail lights are flickering, and the men's flourescent orange life jackets are quite a scene. They even look conspicuous in this gloomy weather.
His mates have probably invited him aboard hoping he'll catch on to some better job--other than flipping falafels to earn his daily expenses, that is.
He, however, looks full of dazed apathy as he stares down the coastline with the most forlorn expression.
Our protagonist is one serious introvert.

A fancy looking cruise boat shuffles through, bypassing our patrol crew. They weren't supposed to do that (for some reason), as the crew start shouting instructions to each other and make way to front the cruiser. The small boat gains speed at once, and swerves right in front of the cruise boat, its decks packed with people.
Packed Like Sardines In A Crushed Tin Box.
In French: Compactés Comme Des Sardines Dans Une Petite Boite Ecrasée.  LushGlam.

The scene was reminiscent of The Godfather Part II, where young Don Corleone is being shipped off to New York with thousands of other Italian immigrants.
Off to Ellis Island.
The cruise boat looked quite posh at first sight, but no, it was far from that. There was a mob on there, not a group of champagne tourists.

The two boats are now so close, that their bodies are slightly intact. The patrol boat is facing the mob, our protagonist at the very tip of it. Like the Titanic. Only he was alone, sad, and had this unbelievable gleam in his eye--that suggested a warrior of some sort.
The crowd must've sensed that, and there starts much commotion. We are suddenly swirled into a heated conflict. The man stays still, even as the crowd starts to pelt tiny bullets straight at him. But somehow, I knew that he was good enough to be defeated here. He remained unscathed, boldly standing there like a monolith.
Then the crowd pulls out thirty or so of those Arabian swords from The Lawrence of Arabia, and swings them at the man at full speed. He manages to grip them all in one hand, and then, turns them all straight at his heart.
He is not immortal. He dies.

Then I realize I'd been watching this on YouTube, as I scroll down to read the comments. Somehow I find a comment by Agyness Deyn, not ever once doubting its authencity.
She says something like:

People, it's FAKE. For Christ's sake....how can you actually believe this?
This is one bloody heck of a JOKE. It makes me NAUSEOUS.
The tabloids. OH the tabloids...make fun of me all you want, yes everything you say is true.
I'll confirm it. On Saturday night, I went out with who and who. TRUE
I throw random tantrums on YouTube. TRUE
Are you happy now?
Does anybody know how much the government is imposing on us? Those taxes?
Bye!

I have nothing against Agyness anyway.

Then I read a comment directly below that, from an insider's point of view(supposedly)

It's a JOKE. It's so funny when you look at it here from South Africa....
I know those people on board. My neighbours. They don't do all that warrior stuff, apparently.
This is a guise to pose that war-hero ish whatever guy as good.
What a joke. It's funny, but does everyone really get it?

Then I woke up.