This is the door to the pinball workshop that you left barred on the inside.

"We should search downstairs. There are things about this building we don't know yet."

"The door has withstood your demolishing attempts." He measures the door, stoically. "There must be another way in."

"Ow."

The door is oblivious to your distress.

Your foot is ready to explode and punish this object!

"Disrespecting the force?!?!" (Kick the door.)

The door receives a thorough disciplining.

Its pain and grovelling is much to your liking.

"Suck on that, door."

This kind of stuff would hurt -- if not for you not caring about little things like that.

The door receives a thorough disciplining -- and it doesn't even hurt!

The door receives a thorough disciplining -- at the cost of your foot. Your foot hurts. A lot.

Swallow the rage.

The sturdy wood door has lost all respect for you.

"Fucking piece of shit!"

You kick it -- gung ho-style, entering the premises-style -- but the door fails to respect the force. All you hear is the bar rattling inside, laughing at you.

The woman takes a drag of her ziggie and nods: "Demolish the place."

"I don't see how this is going to give new results." He measures the door, stoically. "There must be another way in there."

"All right," the woman nods approvingly: "Let's trash the place."

"Let's not."

This is a small, heavy door. There is no lock in sight.