Years ago I perfected the art of hovering two inches above the door mat, slowly revolving my head through a full 360 while spouting gibberish and foaming at the mouth.
Don't tend to get bothered these days - which is just as well as that sort of thing does take it out of you when you get to my age.
When lovely little old ladies come to your door trying to sell you Jesus. There’s just no satisfaction to be had in being rude to them.