He examined the door, as a paleontologist would do with the ancient remains of a brontosaurus.
At first he felt like an Indiana Jones, but as the task became more and more difficult to achieve, he thought that Mr. Jones probably never had that much trouble with a single door and he probably never used the 'girl' to hold his 'stuff' while attempting the unachievable under the London rain.
'Bollocks', he thought... and all that Christmas decoration waiting to be hanged...
The End.
p.s.: By the way, the name 'Brontosaurus' is not right.... the correct name is: Apatosaurus.. but there's something so romantic about 'Brontosaurus'....
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