Fade in on an unremarkable city street.  The footage is black and white, grainy; a blurred crease drifts up the image, then starts again from the bottom.  A strange, intermittent buzzing is heard.  Just as it becomes noticeable that the shot is gradually zooming out—it is not of a street, but rather one shown on a closed-circuit television, the stickers on its simple controls the first color seen—a person appears on the street, slouched in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt.  Turning toward the camera, it can be seen that they’re holding something down along their side.  They approach the camera and look up, directly into it, revealing a Guy Fawkes mask in the shadows of the hood.  As they raise their hand, a can of spraypaint is glimpsed before the image is covered.

The shot has continued to zoom out, and the now obscured CCTV is revealed to be one in a bank of many.  As the surrounding units come into frame, the hooded figure jumps from one screen to another, sometimes blacking out the camera, sometimes reaching up and reangling it instead.  Widening faster now, the shot reveals a security guard in front of the TVs, leaning far back in his chair, legs up on the desk—the sound is his snoring.  His chair begins to tip, but he wakes and catches himself just in time.  It takes him a moment to notice what’s happening in front of him, but then he’s up on his feet, gaze flicking across the screens.  Half of them are blacked out now, while, from different angles, the rest display the figure standing in the middle of an expansive concrete plaza.  Lowering the hood and taking off the mask, the figure is revealed to be a young woman, who looks directly into one of the cameras.  The guard grasps for his keychain and Maglite on the desk.

Zooming out yet faster now—still without a single cut—the shot includes the wall of glass that the desk and its bank of TVs stand against.  As the shot widens, the young woman appears again, now seen directly through the windows in addition to on the TVs.  As the guard realizes where she is and steps to the side of the desk to look out the windows, she drops the spraypaint to the ground.  As the guard fumbles for his keychain at the glass door, she takes a plastic bottle from her sweatshirt.  As the guard begins to shout, and finally finds the right key, she pours a viscous liquid from the bottle over her hair and sweatshirt.  And as the guard throws open the door and rushes toward her, she looks at him, and then back into the camera, its CCTV so small in the huge frame of the overall shot now, smiles as if to say, yes, I choose this, and lights a match.