The postman probably misdelivered something. Things have a habit of turning into other unrelated things when Thor is around and his temper flares.

Dirk shrugs, eyeballing the duck back awkwardly. He hopes it's not after his cigarette. "I suppose it didn't at that, but had it occurred to you that it might require something non-physical? The key to opening it may be something immaterial such as a word, a sound, a scent or taking it to a specific location? It might even be a specific thought, or perhaps it requires some more esoteric means such as another spirit-" He's babbling again, and focused on the duck.

A glint comes into Thor's eyes, and a smile as slow but sure as a glacier. The challenge is accepted in full. He tilts his face to the sky, raising one hand, and the air grows thick and heavy with tension.

Dirk looks up, just in time for his instincts to kick in and send him scrambling backwards up against the doorframe. "Not here!? Not in the middle of the stre-!"

Anything more is cut off by the boom as Thor slams his hand downwards at speed to point at the jar. The lightning echoes the gesture, an eye-searing bolt of white so focused the heat is barely felt more than a foot away. Most of the energy is condensed into the force that crashes directly onto the jar.