(complaining) Your mother has been making a god-awful facket up there. What's she doing? Moving furniture? And the stairwell light's burned out, did you notice? Can't your mother get her boyfriend to change it?

My mother had a great talent. She could see a man's future in his hands or the leaves at the bottom of his teacup. She taught me some of her tricks. Speaking of tea, young man, would you like some?

(explaining) It's a five-dimensional door. Dimensions aren't all straight lines, you know. There are dips and folds and nooks and crannies all tucked away. It's a bit hard to explain when you've never studied demensional theory, but, in that essence, that door can take you anywhere in this dimension that you want to go.