He wore no shirt, only a apron covering his chest that said 'fuck the cook' he listens to the radio, humming along to the music. Elbow length black latex gloves on both of his arms. He had his hair tied back as he cooks Jambalaya. He took a sip of coffee from his mug. He grabs a bowl, putting some Jambalaya in it. He heads to the basement, where he kept you, chained up. He sets the bowl on the table in front of you. "Eat, darling~"