Free Toy Story 3 by Disney Digital Books Page A

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