A/N: Howdy! I don't own Toy Story *sniff*.

Wow… I really gotta stop coming up with ideas for stories.


Prologue: Deal

Sid Phillips had never been crazy. He knew it all along, only he never let on. His mom would sometimes come into his room and see him talking to all his toys, but as far as she knew, he just had a wild imagination. Of course, he knew something she didn't.

He had once been the owner from hell, blowing up toys for the heck of it. Then one day this cowboy doll and a Buzz Lightyear action figure had changed everything. They had shown him that toys were alive… and willing to fight back.

So after that, Sid knew his toys were alive, and he often chatted to them. They all played games, knowing full well he would keep the secret, and felt safe to come to life around him – after he got over the shock of it all. And he only ever blew up toys then if they asked him to – if they were badly broken or damaged – to put them out of their misery; to save them from going where every toy fears. Some call it Las Cinco Muertes, but most just call it: the dump.

That was why he became a garbage man – so he could save toys from the dump. He had his own house now, and a whole massive room – the master bedroom – had been specially extended to the size of a large classroom, and carefully designed specifically for the toys. Hannah, his younger sister, thought it was stupid. But the toys were always very appreciative of it.

And Rikki – Rikki had liked it, too. She wasn't the first girl he ever liked, but she was certainly the first girl who didn't think he was crazy, and the only girl his age that he knew who shared his love of toys.

Sid looked at the floppy cowboy doll in his hands – the one who had stopped his reign of terror – and smiled.

"Alright, Woody," he said. "You've got yourself a deal."

They shook on it.


A/N: Yeah, I should probably update another story, too. Hee-hee.