Your front door had chosen to plot rebellion, and it was driving you insane.

After the 3rd consecutive day in a week that it had simply chosen to give up closing properly, something inside of you snapped. Within the hour, your doorknob had been half disassembled, allowing you a better view into it's inner workings.

It was around that point when you realised that perhaps your door diagnostic skills weren't up to the task.

"Do you need some help?"

A voice behind you called suddenly, causing you a near heart attack. When your head whipped around, you found yourself facing an older man with an inviting smile and bushy eyebrows furrowed in mild concern.

"I'm a handyman."

He added sheepishly.