Hey Girl Production and Storyboard Creations
Hey Girl Production and Storyboard Creations

About The Project

Thirteen Rooms to Sunrise: The Toll House Chronicles

The Toll House Awakening introduces Eugene, an inmate identified only by his number, as he is abruptly awakened by a jailer in a grim, oppressive prison setting. The opening scene captures Eugene’s confusion, the jailer’s hostility, and the bleak environment, hinting at themes of confinement, dehumanization, and the small moments of individuality that persist despite harsh surroundings. The story appears to follow Eugene’s journey as he navigates life inside the prison, facing both external challenges from the guards and internal struggles with his own sense of self and hope for freedom.
Chapter 1: The Toll House Awakening
“Inmate number 0119644—open her up, Larry,”
The jailer grunts as he steps into the cell. His boot nudges Eugene’s leg, and he draws out with his voice,
“Hey, hey --Come on, Eugene, time to get movin’. Let’s see that smile.”
Leaning in close, the jailer’s breath hot with the smell of stale coffee, he lowers his voice,
“I know exactly what you’re dreaming about… You best not be dreaming of freedom, or anything else, Eugene.”
Eugene rubs his eyes and blinks against the dim, flickering overhead light. He looks up, meeting the jailer’s deep, southern sunburned face, and takes in the cold, damp air heavy with must and sweat. The echo of distant footsteps and the metallic clang of a gate closing somewhere down the hall fills his ears. On the grimy ceiling, he notices crudely scrawled words,
“John was here.”
Their presence adds to the oppressive atmosphere. The jailer calls out, his voice echoing off the concrete wall,
“Open the gate, Larry—I got inmate number 0119644.”
Eugene, still groggy, mumbles,
“Huh? What?”
The jailer leans in closer; his expression twisted with disdain.
“You’re outta here, you little piece of shit—and you stank!”
He sneered, his words sharp and biting.
Slowly, Eugene rises to his feet. He lifts his arms and sniffs each of his armpits, a puzzled look on his face.
“I don’t think I smell,”
