Man vs. Metal

The latch shrieks as he twists the door handle and heaves with all his strength. The dusty, green mass rolls a few inches and sticks, scraping loose a fine rain of rust from overhead. Curses spew from the man’s mouth as his fingers attempt to dislodge the auburn speckles clinging like coppery dandruff to his curls.

Clang! The result of a boot’s toe connecting with the motionless green beast crashes through the air in waves. A sharp howl cuts through the reverberating gong-like sound as he staggers backward. The curses continue.

Gripping the door’s edge with both hands, the man pulls, allowing his considerable weight to aid him. Metal squeals, rust falls, and the slab moves an inch. Regaining his balance, the man looks at the angry red lines marring his fingers. Muttering obscenities, he notes that a number of brown and yellow tips point at him through the crack.

Cloth rips, and dust clouds erupt. The man wraps his hands with strips from the gritty flannel shirt, damp with sweat from his previous efforts.
Placing each hand on the door’s edge once more, he plants a boot on the curb and pushes.

Muscles ripple. Veins bulge. For a moment, the green monster refuses to budge.

The door screams as it shoots down its track with stunning suddenness. Slamming to the ground, the man looks up and emits one final curse as the avalanche of bananas engulfs him.