Woody walked for only a few moments before he heard some strange noises. He turned to find Forky struggling in the dirt. Woody sighed. He grabbed Forky's pipe-cleaner hand and pulled him up.

Woody continued to hold Forky's hand as they walked.

“Carry me?” Forky asked.

“No,” Woody said firmly.

“Why do I have to be a toy?” Forky whined.

“Because you have Bonnie's name written on the bottom of your sticks,” explained Woody.

“Why do I have Bonnie's name written on the bottom of my sticks?” asked Forky.

“Because she ...” Woody took a deep breath and tried to think of how to get Forky to understand. “Look, she plays with you all the time. Right?”

“Uh, yes.”

“And who does she sleep with every night?”

“The big white fluffy thing?” Forky asked.

“No, not her pillow—you.”

Forky sighed.

“All right, Forky,” said Woody. “You have to understand how lucky you are right now. You're Bonnie's toy. You are going to help her create happy memories that will last the rest of her life.”

Forky wasn't paying attention to Woody. He was busy playing with his pipe-cleaner hand.

Woody turned away, frustrated. He rubbed his forehead and tried to remain calm. “Doing this for Bonnie,” he said to himself. He took a deep breath and turned to face Forky. “Okay, like it or not, you are a toy. Maybe you don't like being one, but you are one nonetheless. Which means you are going to be there for Andy when he—”

“Who's Andy?” interrupted Forky.

“I mean Bonnie!” shouted Woody. “You have to be there for Bonnie. That is your job.”

“What's your job?” asked Forky.

“Well, right now it's to make sure you do yours,” said Woody, still sounding very frustrated.

“Carry me?” Forky asked again weakly.

Woody refused, and the two walked in silence for a bit before Forky asked Woody about Andy. Woody sighed. “Andy was my other kid,” he answered sadly.

“You had another kid?” asked Forky.

“Yeah. For a long time,” said Woody. “It was pretty great.” They walked in silence for a few minutes. “I was a favorite toy, actually,” he said with a hint of pride. “Running the room was my job. Keeping all the toys in place.” Woody continued to talk about his life with Andy and the other toys. He enjoyed sharing his memories.

To Woody's surprise, Forky was listening. And before long, Woody was carrying Forky in his arms.

“Then you watch ’em grow up, become a full person ... and then they leave,” explained Woody. “They go off and do things you'll never see. Don't get me wrong—you still feel good about it, but then somehow you find yourself after all those years, sitting in a closet, just feeling ...” His voice trailed off as he tried to find a word to describe it.

“Useless?” Forky offered.

“Yeah,” said Woody. He frowned, thinking.

“Your purpose fulfilled,” added Forky.

“Exactly,” Woody said with a nod.

Forky looked up at the cowboy. “Woody, I know what your problem is.”

“You do?”

“You're just like me. Trash!”

“What is it with you and trash?” Woody asked.

“It's warm,” said Forky with a satisfied smile.

“Ew.”

“It's cozy,” added Forky.

“I guess ...”

“And safe. Like somebody's whispering in your ear ... everything's going to be okay.”

“Forky!” exclaimed Woody. He knew how to get him to understand. “That's it! That's how Bonnie feels when she's with YOU.”

“She does?” asked Forky.

“YES!” said Woody.

“Wait a sec—” Forky jumped out of Woody's arms and faced him, his googly eyes suddenly focused. “You mean she thinks I'm warm?”

“Yep.”

“And cozy?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And sometimes kind of squishy?”

“Mmmm, that, too. Yes,” Woody agreed.

Forky's entire body trembled as he continued. “Oh, Woody, I get it now. I am Bonnie's trash.”

“Yes—wait, what?”

“I am Bonnie's trash!” repeated Forky, running in circles.

“No, no, no, not exactly ...,” said Woody.

“Oh, she must be feeling awful without me,” said Forky. “Woody, we’ve got to get going. She needs me!” He sprinted ahead, shouting, “Hey, Bonnie—I'm coming!”

Woody chased after him. “Whoa, whoa, Forky. Slow down! Forky!”

As Woody tried to catch up, Forky just giggled and picked up speed, running faster and faster toward the sparkling lights of the sleeping town up ahead.

It wasn't long before Forky became tired and Woody carried him again. When they reached the edge of town, the sun had just started to creep into the sky, giving the shops along Main Street a soft glow. Even though it was still too early for most people to be awake, Woody kept an eye out for any movement. He saw a banner over the street advertising the town's Carnival Days, and a Ferris wheel above the treetops in the near distance also caught his eye. Then he saw it—the lit RV park sign. He pointed it out to Forky.

“Forky, look!” he said. “Bonnie's right over there.”

Forky gasped and jumped out of Woody's arms. “Hurry,” he called as he ran toward the sign.

Woody chuckled and started to chase after Forky. Then a pattern of familiar lights on the sidewalk outside one of the shops caught his eye. He looked up and gasped. Inside the front window of an antiques store was his old friend Bo Peep's lamp!

When Forky realized Woody wasn't behind him, he stopped. “Woody?” he said, turning to see him gaping through the window.

“Bo ...?” Woody muttered. He turned to look back at the RV park sign, thinking before approaching the front door.

“Woody?” Forky said again. “Aren't we—aren't we going to Bonnie?”

Woody peered through the glass and into the dark store. “I know, I know, but my friend might be in there.”

“But, Woody, Bonnie's right there,” said Forky, pointing to the RV park.

“Yeah, we—we'll have you back before she wakes up. Come on,” said Woody. He picked up Forky, tucked him under his arm, and climbed through the mail slot in the shop door. Uqtpckgs66rALsDh11IOSGN5LUzKnqI5B2HNTfbAk5jt14LHOjs8peDGapzQcdAW

Woody searched the enormous antiques store, calling Bo's name. Forky followed.

“Bo? ”Forky repeated as they wound through the store. He seemed to enjoy saying her name. “Bo, Bo, Bo, Bo, Bo,” he said until he grew tired of it and turned to Woody. “Can we go back to Bonnie now? I don't see your friend.”

“Yeah, okay,” Woody said with a sigh. “She's not in here. Come on, let's go.”

Just as Woody grabbed Forky, the sound of squeaky wheels coming toward them made him pause. The sound grew louder and louder, and Woody pulled Forky behind a nearby shelf of vases. They watched through the glass, waiting to see what was making the sound.

An antique ventriloquist's dummy wearing a red bow tie appeared. He was pushing an old-fashioned baby carriage with squeaky wheels.

“Is that Bo?” asked Forky in a loud whisper.

Woody wincedand covered Forky's mouth as the dummy stopped walking. Its head slowly spun around until it stopped, staring straight at them. Forky screamed.

Woody had no choice. He stepped out from behind the glass and forced a smile. “Uh ... hey, howdy, hey there,” he said. “Sorry to bother you, but—” Inside the carriage, a doll wearing curled pigtails and a frilly yellow dress sat up.

“Why, you're not a bother at all,” said the doll in a sweet voice. “We were just out for my early-morning stroll—and look, we met you! My name is Gabby Gabby. And this is my very good friend Benson.” She gestured to the dummy.

“Oh, uh. Woody,” said Woody. “Pleasure to meet you.” He tried to hide his reaction to Benson's creepy smile.

“Well, it's nice to meet you, Woody. And you are ...?” Gabby Gabby smiled at Forky, waiting for an introduction.

“This is Forky,” said Woody.

“I'm trash,” said Forky.

“Our kid made him,” explained Woody.

“Kid?” said Gabby Gabby, her eyes widening. “Toys around here don't have kids. Are you two ... lost?” She raised her eyebrows when she noticed Woody's pull string in the reflection of the glass behind him.

Woody chuckled. “Lost? No, no, but we are looking for a lost toy. She's a figurine. Used to be on that lamp in the window. Name's Bo Peep.”

“Bo Peep?” said Gabby Gabby, perking up again. “Oh. Yes. I know Bo.”

“You do?” asked Woody, eager to hear more.

“Hop on in,” she said, moving over to make room for them inside her carriage. “We'll take you to her.”

Benson picked up Forky and Woody.

“Oh, um, you don't have to do that,” said Woody as Benson set them down in the carriage. “Ah, well. Okay ...”

“Benson, be careful with our new friends,” said Gabby Gabby.

“Wow, what service!” said Forky with a big, innocent smile.

As Benson pushed the carriage, Gabby Gabby stared at Woody, which made him uncomfortable.

“Uh, th-thank you for your help,” he stuttered. “I haven't seen Bo in years—”

“May I ask, when were you made?” asked Gabby Gabby.

“Me? Oh, I'm not sure. Late fifties?” said Woody, wishing they could go back to talking about Bo.

“Me too!” said Gabby Gabby with a gasp. “Gee, I wonder if we were made in the same factory. Wouldn't that be something? I gotta say, you are in great condition.”

Benson leaned over and inspected Woody's pull-string ring.

Sensing him, Woody turned around. “Well ... I try to stay active,” he said, trying to scoot away.

“And look at that, you have a voice box like me. Benson, show him.” Benson stopped the carriage.

“Oh, that's really not necessary,” said Woody.

Benson slid Gabby Gabby's voice box out of her back compartment, revealing a small record player. Gabby Gabby started the record, and a deep, warped voice came out of the speaker: “I'm Gabby Gabby, and I love you ...”

“Wow, you need to fix that,” said Forky, wincing at the terrifying sound.

Gabby Gabby opened the voice box and removed the record. “My record works just fine,” she explained. “It's the voice box that's broken. Does yours still work?”

Before Woody could answer, Benson pulled his string.

“Hey!” he shouted. Woody's voice box blurted, “There's a snake in my boot!”

“Listen to that,” said Gabby Gabby with an admiring smile. “Let's see it. I bet it's the same type.”

Woody squirmed in his seat. “N-no, thanks. Mine's sewn inside. Is Bo around here? Because we need—”

Suddenly, the store clocks chimed.

“Oh!” exclaimed Gabby Gabby. “The store is about to open. Don't worry, we'll take you where no one will see us.”

“Oh, no,” said Woody. “We can't stay.”

“You can't leave yet. You have what I need,” said the doll, pointing to Woody's chest as three more dummies emerged ominously from the shadows. “Right ... inside ... there.”

Chimes on the front door jingled as Margaret, the store owner, entered with her daughter and young granddaughter.

Gabby Gabby lit up when she saw the little girl. “Harmony!” she said, looking at her with admiration.

Woody noticed that Gabby Gabby was distracted and seized the opportunity. He grabbed Forky and jumped out of the carriage. As soon as they hit the ground, Woody broke into a sprint, dragging Forky behind him.

“Stop him, please,” Gabby Gabby said, her voice quiet and steady.

Hearing Gabby Gabby's order, Benson and the other dummies chased Woody and Forky up and down the store aisles.

“He's coming, he's coming, I see him, I see him, I see him,” said Forky, terrified.

A second later, Woody realized he was holding only Forky's pipe-cleaner arms. He looked back to see the dummies running toward him, carrying the rest of Forky.

“Woody!” Forky screamed.

One of the dummies got close enough to Woody to grab hold of Forky's arms. Woody fell down as the dummy snatched the pipe cleaner from his grasp.

Harmony passed by, and Woody, thinking fast, pulled his string, causing his voice box to say, “I'd like to join your posse, boys, but first I'm gonna sing a little song.”

Harmony turned to see Woody in toy mode. The dummies watched from a limp pile nearby as she bent to pick Woody up. She ran toward the front of the store.

“Grandma, look what I found,” she said, holding Woody. She asked if she could take the cowboy to the park, and her grandmother said yes.

Harmony carried Woody out of the store as she and her mom left for the park. Woody couldn't believe it—he was leaving without Forky. DP6wOkTkgheA4ySd2Bj4vpekeHtAyK2+S0pi/CYVLtt5tTvteFLOST0W0S+Pjys7