Toy Story 3

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Authors: Disney Digital Books

Tags: #Fiction - Young Adult

BOOK: Toy Story 3
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Copyright © 2010 Disney/Pixar. Slinky® Dog is a registered trademark of Poof-Slinky, Inc. © Poof-Slinky, Inc.; Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head® are registered trademarks of Hasbro, Inc. Used with permission. © Hasbro, Inc. All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4231-4499-1

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www.disneybooks.com

“O
kay, places, everyone. Get in position,” Woody the cowboy said in a hushed voice.

The toys shifted around nervously. It was dark inside Andy’s toy box, but a sliver of light crept in through the slightly open lid.

Woody glanced at his best friend, Buzz Lightyear, a space ranger toy. Woody and Buzz had come up with the plan—and now they just hoped it would work. This was the toys’ last chance, and they all knew it.

“There they are!” Rex clapped his tiny plastic tyrannosaurus hands as Sarge and two small Green Army Men trooped into Andy’s room. They were dragging a gym sock behind them.

“Mission accomplished!” Sarge called as he and his soldiers hoisted the sock up to Buzz. The space ranger pulled it over the edge of the toy box.

Buzz turned the sock upside down. A cell phone slid out. The toys gathered around it.

“Everyone ready?” Woody asked.

“We’re ready, Woody!” Jessie answered. “Let’s do it!” The red-haired cowgirl flashed a smile.

“Okay.” Woody nodded. “Make the call.”

Buzz flipped open the cover of his wrist communicator. The number of Andy’s cell phone was written there. Jessie pulled out the cordless phone they’d swiped from the kitchen earlier that day. She punched in Andy’s number.

Woody tossed the cell phone to Rex as it started to ring. The toys held their breath. They heard footsteps on the stairs! Coming up the hall! Now the footsteps were right outside the door!

“Target is on approach,” Buzz murmured.

“Just like we rehearsed it, guys,” Woody said, lowering the toy box lid.

The door creaked as Andy entered the room. The toys could hear him shuffling around, looking for his phone. Suddenly, light flooded the toys’ eyes as the lid of the toy box opened. Andy peered down. The toys lay frozen, smiling up at him with eager faces. All they wanted was for Andy to play with them.

The trouble was, Andy wasn’t a kid anymore. He was a six-foot-tall teenager with shaggy hair. But the toys still hoped for one more playtime. It had been so long!

Andy rummaged through the box, searching for his phone. At last he found it, stuck between Rex’s arms. Andy picked up the dinosaur and pulled the phone free.

“Hello?” Andy said into the phone. “Hello? Anyone there?”

No answer. With a shrug, Andy hung up. “Molly, stay out of my room!” he shouted at his little sister.

“I wasn’t in your room!” she shouted back from down the hall.

Andy rolled his eyes, then looked down at Rex, who was still in his hand.

The toys watched eagerly. Was this it? Was their plan going to work?

Andy dropped Rex back into the toy box. He shut the lid and left the room.

The toys were heartbroken. “Well, that went well,” Mr. Potato Head said sarcastically as they all spilled out into Andy’s room.

“He actually held me!” Rex shouted, hopping up and down with joy.

“Aw, who are we kidding?” Mr. Potato Head moaned.

“We aren’t ever getting played with,” Slinky said, shaking his head sadly.

Deep down, Woody knew they were right. He glanced at Buzz, who nodded.

“I’m calling it, guys,” Woody told his friends. “Andy’s going to college any day now. That was our last shot.”

“We’re going into Attic Mode, folks,” Buzz explained, stepping up next to Woody.

The toys gasped. Then they all began to argue. No one wanted to go into the attic.

“Hey, hey, now, come on, guys.” Woody held up his hands. “We all knew this day was coming. Every toy goes through this. No one wants to see their kid grow up and leave.”

“Hey! Sarge!” Buzz called out suddenly. “What are you doing?”

The toys all turned. Sarge and his soldiers were up on the windowsill. “War’s over, folks,” said Sarge. “Me and the boys are moving on.”

“You’re going AWOL?” Buzz looked stunned. The army guys were deserting them?

“We’ve done our duty,” Sarge said. “Andy’s grown up.”

“And let’s face it,” a soldier added. “When the trash bags come out, we Army guys are the first to go.”

Sarge gave Woody a salute. “It has been an honor serving with you. Good luck, folks.”

The toy soldiers parachuted out the window, and the wind carried them away.

“We’re getting thrown away?” Rex cried. He looked terrified.

“No!” Woody insisted. “No one’s getting thrown away!”

But the toys weren’t listening. “We’re being abandoned!” Jessie gasped. Everyone started to panic.

“Whoa! Hold on! Quiet!” Woody waved his arms, silencing them. “No one’s getting thrown out, okay? We’re all still here, aren’t we? I mean, we’ve lost friends along the way—but through every yard sale, every spring cleaning, Andy held on to us. He must care about us or we wouldn’t
be
here. You wait—Andy’s going to tuck us in the attic. It’ll be safe and warm . . .”

“And we’ll all be together,” Buzz added.

“Exactly,” Woody replied.

The toys murmured, nodding. It didn’t sound so bad when Woody put it that way.

“Come on, guys,” Buzz said. “Let’s get our parts together, get ready, and go out on a high note.”

Mrs. Potato Head sighed. “I’d better find my other eye.”

“Where’d you leave it this time?” her husband asked.

Mrs. Potato Head clamped a hand over her remaining eye and squinted. Now she could see through the lost eye. “Someplace dusty,” she replied.

“Don’t worry,” Woody called as the toys tramped away. He smiled confidently. “Andy’s gonna take care of us. I guarantee it.”

Woody climbed onto Andy’s desk. On the corkboard, behind Andy’s high school graduation photo, was a picture of Andy as a child. He was holding Woody and Buzz. They were surrounded by the other toys.

Woody stared longingly at the photo. In those days, Andy had played with them for hours at a time. Woody wished things could go back to the way they had been then.

“You guarantee it, huh?” Buzz asked, coming up next to him.

Woody sighed. “I don’t know, Buzz. What else could I say?”

Buzz put a reassuring hand on Woody’s shoulder. “Whatever happens, at least we’ll be together.”

Woody gazed at the photo of Andy and nodded. “For infinity . . . and beyond.”

T
he toys heard voices in the hallway. Gasping, they scrambled back to the toy box. They dived inside just as the door swung open. Andy walked into the room with his sister, Molly.

“Can I have your computer?” she begged. “Your video games?”

“Forget it, Molly,” Andy said as he sat down at his laptop computer and started typing. Just then, their mom walked into the room. She was carrying cardboard boxes and trash bags.

“Andy, let’s get to work here,” she said brightly, placing the boxes on Andy’s bed. “Anything you’re not taking to college either goes in the attic, or it’s trash.”

Andy didn’t look up from the computer. “Mom, I’m not leaving until Friday.”

Andy’s mom picked up his skateboard. “Look, it’s simple. Skateboard?” She dumped it in a box. “College. Little League trophy? Probably attic. Apple core? Trash.” She picked up an ancient apple core from Andy’s dresser and tossed it into one of the trash bags. “You can do the rest.”

Molly peered into the toy box. “Why do you still have these toys?” she sneered.

“You’re not off the hook, either, Molly!” their mom said as Molly flounced out the door. Mrs. Davis wrote
SUNNYSIDE
on an empty box, then dropped it in Molly’s room. “You have more toys than you know what to do with. Some of them could make other kids really happy. The daycare is always asking for donations.”

Molly pouted. “But, Mom . . .”

Mrs. Davis held firm. “No buts. You choose the toys you want to donate. I’ll drop them off at Sunnyside.”

She turned and walked down the hall.

With a sigh, Molly looked around her room. She chose an old rainbow-colored xylophone and tossed it into the box marked for donation.

From across the hall, Andy’s toys watched as Molly picked up her Barbie doll and studied her sweet, smiling face. With a shrug, Molly tossed the Barbie into the box, too.

“Poor Barbie!” Jessie whispered.

“I get the Corvette,” said Hamm.

Andy’s mom walked back into his room. He was still typing away on the computer. “Andy, come on—what are you going to do with these toys?” She opened the toy box. “Should we donate them to Sunnyside?”

“No,” Andy replied.

“Maybe sell them online?” Mrs. Davis suggested.

Andy rolled his eyes. “Mom, no one’s gonna want those old toys,” he said. “They’re junk!”

Junk? The word hit Andy’s toys like a slap. They’d always thought of themselves as Andy’s
friends
.

“Fine, you have till Friday,” Andy’s mom told him. “Anything that’s not packed for college or in the attic is getting thrown out.”

Once his mother had left the room, Andy closed his laptop with a sigh. He walked over to the toy box and looked down at all his old toys.

Andy grabbed a trash bag and snapped it open. He picked up Rex and stuffed him into the bag. In went the Potato Heads. Jessie. Bullseye. Slinky. The Aliens. Andy uncorked Hamm and emptied the change onto his desk before shoving the piggy bank in with the rest.

Then Andy came to Buzz and Woody. He paused for a moment, looking from one to the other. Finally, he dropped Woody into the box marked
COLLEGE
. He dropped Buzz into the garbage bag and headed for the door.

Buzz landed on top of the pile of toys. He couldn’t believe it! Andy had just thrown him away!

“What’s happening?” Rex cried.

“We’re getting thrown out! That’s what!” Mr. Potato Head snapped.

Woody jumped out of the
COLLEGE
box and raced after Andy. He couldn’t let his friends get thrown away!

Andy walked into the hall and stopped. Woody hid behind the door frame and watched as Andy reached up and pulled down a trapdoor that released a ladder in the hall’s ceiling. Woody sighed with relief. Andy was taking his friends to the attic after all!

Just then, Molly came out of her room, carrying the heavy box of toys she was donating.

“You need a hand?” Andy asked his sister. Setting down the garbage bag, he took the box from Molly and helped her carry it down the stairs.

Inside the garbage bag, the toys were all talking at once. “I can’t breathe!” Jessie gasped.

“Quiet!” Buzz commanded. “What’s that sound?”

They heard a faint creak. The spring-loaded ladder to the attic was folding back up into the ceiling. It knocked over the bag of toys.

Woody gasped. He hurried into the hall to help his friends. But at that moment, Andy’s mom came around the corner. She was carrying a full garbage bag in each hand.

Woody ducked back into Andy’s room.

Mrs. Davis tripped over the garbage bag full of toys lying in the hallway. She looked down. “Andy?” she called, annoyed. When there was no answer, she scooped up the bag and carried it downstairs with the rest of the garbage.

“That’s not trash!” Woody cried. He ran to the window and saw Andy’s mom drop the bag at the curb, right next to the trash cans.

At that moment, a garbage truck rumbled up the street.
I have to help them!
Woody thought desperately. He grabbed a pair of scissors from the desk and slipped them into his holster. Then he ran to the windowsill and jumped toward the drainpipe. He hit the gutter instead and tumbled head over heels into the bushes.

Inside the bag, the toys were terrified.

“We’re on the curb!” Jessie shouted.

“There’s gotta be a way out!” Buzz insisted. They pulled at the plastic with all their might, but the bag was too strong. They couldn’t tear it open.

“Oh, Andy doesn’t want us!” Mr. Potato Head groaned. “What’s the point?”

“Point . . . ,” Buzz repeated, thinking hard. “Point— POINT!” He looked down at Rex’s pointy tail. He had an idea!

“I can hear the garbage truck!” Rex cried, his voice quivering with fear. The rest of the toys helped Buzz shove Rex backward against the plastic bag.

Meanwhile, Woody climbed out of the bushes and raced across the yard. He dived behind the mailbox, watching as the garbageman picked up a trash can and emptied it into the truck.

When the man wasn’t looking, Woody ducked out from behind the post and plunged his scissors into a garbage bag. Kitchen trash spilled out.

Woody darted back to his hiding place as the garbageman picked up the rest of the bags and tossed them into the truck. The truck started down the street. Woody chased after it.

At the next house, the truck stopped. The garbageman flipped a lever.
Crunch!

“Buzz!” Woody cried in horror. “Jessie!”

Just then, he heard a sound behind him. Woody turned. A blue recycling bin scurried up Andy’s driveway on several tiny plastic feet.

Woody sighed in relief. His friends had escaped! He hurried after them.

Inside the garage, the toys threw off the recycling bin. “Junk!” Mr. Potato Head snapped. “He called us junk!”

“Sarge was right,” said Hamm, groaning.

“Yeah!” said Mr. Potato Head. “And Woody was wrong!”

Suddenly, Jessie let out a shout. “Yee-haw! Fellas, I know what to do!” She pointed to the back of the car. The hatchback was open. Inside was a box of Molly’s toys, labeled
SUNNYSIDE
. Andy’s toys didn’t have to be thrown away—they could be donated!

“Jessie, wait! What about Woody?” Buzz asked as the other toys began to clamber into the box.

“He’s fine, Buzz! Andy’s taking him to college!” Jessie said, giving one of the Aliens a boost.

Buzz nodded. “You’re right. Come on!”

Just then, Woody ran into the garage. “Buzz? What’s going on? Don’t you know this box is being donated?”

“It’s under control, Woody. We have a plan!” Buzz replied, helping Jessie with another Alien.

“We’re going to daycare!” Rex cried happily.

“Daycare?” Woody gaped at his friends. “Have you all lost your marbles?”

“Didn’t you see?” Mrs. Potato Head wailed. “Andy threw us away!”

“No!” Woody insisted. “That was a mistake! Andy’s mom thought you were trash!”

“After he put us in the trash bag,” Hamm pointed out.

“And called us junk!” Mrs. Potato Head added.

“I know it looks bad,” Woody admitted. “But, guys, you’ve got to believe me!”

“Andy’s moving on, Woody!” Jessie said. “It’s time we did the same.” She ducked into the box. The toys pulled the flaps shut over their heads.

Woody lost his temper. “Okay, out of the box!” he shouted, climbing into the car.

“Woody—wait!” Buzz said. “We need to figure out what’s best for everyone—”

Slam!
Suddenly, the hatchback closed. Andy’s mom got into the driver’s seat and started the car engine.

“Oh, great!” Woody fumed as the car pulled out of the driveway. “It’s gonna take us forever to get back here!”

Woody and Buzz climbed into the box, where the other toys were comforting Molly’s Barbie doll. “Okay, everyone, listen up,” Woody said. “We’ll hide under the seats until we get back home, then—”

“Get it through your vinyl noggin, Woody,” Mr. Potato Head growled. “Andy doesn’t want us anymore!”

“He was
putting
you in the
attic
!” Woody shouted.

“He
left
us on the
curb
!” Jessie yelled back.

“All right, calm down!” Buzz said, stepping between them. “Both of you!”

“Fine!” Woody threw his hands in the air. “Just wait till you see what daycare is like!”

“Why?” Rex asked. “What’s it like?”

“Daycare is a sad, lonely place for washed-up old toys who have no owners,” Woody told him.

Barbie burst into tears.

Hamm shook his head at Woody. “Quite the charmer, aren’t ya?”

“Oh, you’ll see!” Woody warned him.

There were two holes cut into the sides of the box to use as handholds. The toys crowded around one of them, peering out. After a short drive, the car turned into the daycare center’s parking lot. No one knew what would come next.

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