Business was bound. His arms wrapped together in bandages and bindings. Similar bindings covered his eyes and wrapped around his torso over a tattered uniform. In any normal situation, he would have been able to escape, shifting out of the bindings like they were nothing, but these bindings were not so simple.

They had spells cast on them, cast by the special himself, Emmet Brickowski, and oh how Business now loathed that name more than anything.

The bindings had symbols and runes that shifted and glowed across them, whispers in ancient tongues floating from them.

They kept him from shifting.

Prevented him from using his powers.

The fact that a pathetic human had done this infuriated him to no end.

But he did not intend to stay trapped like this for the rest of eternity.

And He sure as all hell did not plan to submit to Emmet's pleas to conform, Gods no.

He was LORD BUSINESS, and Lord Business submitted to no soul or being.

He had plans to escape of course, and he plotted his revenge.

He would escape, and exact his revenge on all those who have and will defy him.

His Prison cell was small, made of stone and steel. There was only one guard, a witch, who constantly taunted him, and mocked him.

Told him over and over about how he failed.

About how he was apprehended by a human.

Business loathed he existence almost as much as the Special.

She would be the first to go, yes.

Business' plan of escape was simple.

So simple that it was in fact pathetic.

He hated himself for it being the only logical thing he could think of.

The guard's only job was to feed him, and make sure he stayed alive. He didn't necessarily HAVE to eat allot, but not many people knew this, and most certainly not this guard.

So faking starving to death was pretty easy.

He went months not eating anything slid to him, but today was the day; he would put his plan into action.

Business lay on his side and slowed his breathing to a near stop.

His human form was already looking starved and emaciated, and before long the guard would be forced to check his vitals, and a few hours later he was no disappointed.

The guard had demanded him to stand and come to the cell bars, and in any normal situation here he would have.

He could hear the typical snicker under her breath, simply amused by the turning of the table as usual.

She gradually grew impatient, and he heard her slide the cell door open.

The witch walked to him, and turned him over.

He felt her breath as she leaned in close to check his own breathing, and he slammed his head forward into hers.

She cried out in pain and fell to the side.

Business rolled over and grabbed at her throat, and began to squeeze.

He felt the sting of a knife being plunged into his side and cried out in pain, but not letting up his grip on her throat.

Their fray was long but mundane, and the witch eventually passed out from a lack of oxygen.

Business sat back and tenderly pulled the knife from his side, letting out a hiss of pain.

He could feel the blood gushing down his side, which meant he had to work quickly, or he would die himself.

He carefully slid the tip of the blade under the bindings on his face between the bridge of his nose and his eye, and began to saw at the bindings.

It took a while for them to break.

Business was beginning to grow dizzy from blood loss, and the sparks form the bindings made his head pound more.

Eventually however they broke with a flash of light.

The ancient whispers fading away, along with the symbols and ruins.

The bindings on his torso and arms loosened as the spell wore off, and almost as if on que, his wounds began to heal and regenerate.

Business tore away the bindings in a moment of triumph.

He looked down at the guard at his feet and grinned.

It took allot more to kill him with starvation, but he still needed to eat.

And here was his first meal in months.