My name is Woody. I’m a sheriff, well, I’m really a toy. And I guess now I’m an undead toy. See, a couple years back my girl, her name’s Christina, she took me to a friends house on her first road trip, and, well, her friend had some dogs. She went down stairs to help that friend pack to move, and those dogs took a real liking to how my plastic tasted. I won’t bother you with the details, as there might be women and children reading this, but let me tell yuh, when Christina got back to me, I was a mess. Pieces of my face, my head, and my shoes were all over the place. I thought I was done for, that she was gonna throw me away. We’d had a good run, 14 years is better than most toys can ask for. But as she picked me up and stared down at me in horror, she hugged me tight and put me right back in her bag. I watched her pick up my pieces, and put ‘em in a plastic bag, and she said she would put me back together. She wasn’t gonna give up on me. She said she had some ideas for me, she was gonna glue me back together and paint me up real nice, as she put the bits and pieces pf me back into that bag with me she whispered “I’ll never throw you away, I promised you I would keep you forever, and I meant it.”
If toys could cry, I would’ve.
It’s been a few years now, and she’s getting ready to graduate college, her last year she started taking a real liking to China, she she started learning Chinese, and got herself some scholarships to go to the place for a few months with her school. She was also moving out of her apartment, so I planned on being boxed away with what was left of us toys. But… Well… She came to me one day, picked me up, and told me “Woody, we’re going to China.”
So here I am now, my girl and me, in China. And that there behind me is the Forbidden City.
It’s good to be an undead toy.