3:

In the closet, Woody pulled out shoes and dirty socks from the pile in the back. "Baby monitor, baby monitor…" he muttered aloud. "Oh why can't this closet ever stay clean?" He moved aside an old Sorry board game. The cardboard box was ripped at the corners and as the Cowboy tossed it aside, it opened, spilling pieces, dice, and the board onto the floor.

Woody sighed and knelt down. He started to clean up the mess, but then stopped. "Oh what's the point?" He sighed and sat back on his bottom. "No one cares. The guys probably wouldn't even notice if I read A Christmas Carol this year."

Nothing I do matters, he thought glumly. I haven't gotten to watch any specials or make presents, I've barely slept since the first…

Sleep. That sounded good. Woody could already feel his eyelids getting heavy and drooping. He lay down on the cold, dark floor and stuck his hands under his cheek…

The next thing he knew, he was staring into a white childlike face. He blinked. "Casper the Friendly Ghost? What in the-"

"Hi there, Woody!" said Casper. He pulled Woody up by the arm. "I'm here to teach you about the Christmas Spirit!"

"Oh no!" Woody groaned, burying his face. "I've been sucked into a Christmas Special Cliché! Wait…" He looked up. "Why are you here? Where the traditional Ghosts? Past, Present, and Future?"

"They're busy!" said Casper, leading Woody out of the closet. "There are a lot of other grumpy people this time of year! I'm just a temp!"

"Well, all right…" Woody grumbled. "But if you expect me to go all white and stutter, then you're going to be disappointed." He stopped as they entered Andy's room. "Oh my gosh…"

Andy's room was barely lit. It was cold and dark like a back alley. In the corner there was a group of toys crowded around a fire that had been lit in a trash can. They were all wearing scarves and hats as they warmed themselves.

"Hey!" Woody shouted, rushing over. "Stop that! You guys know better than to light fires in the house! Put that out!"

They didn't respond. Casper floated over. "They can't see or hear you."

The Cowboy turned around. "What in the name of Charles Dickens did you do this room?" He demanded. "Change it back to the way it was!"

"Golly Woody," replied Casper. "I'm only showing you what your selfish attitude and unjoyful spirit has caused."

"My attitude did not turn Andy's room into an English 19th century slum!" Woody protested. "And I'm not selfish! I'm stressed out!"

"Come on!" Casper motioned for him to follow. "I've got even more to show ya!"

By the bed there was a single spotlight illuminating a desk. Buzz, dressed in a blue 19th century coat, was sitting at it, writing in a book with an ink pen.

"See? Here's your poor employee, Buzz Cratchit, slaving away on Christmas Eve, all to earn a few meager shillings for his family!"

"Buzz Cratchit?" Woody said scornfully. "Look, are all the names in this dream going to be bad puns?"

Casper shook his little white finger. "It's not very nice to interrupt!" He scolded.

"Buzz!" shouted a female voice, trying unsuccessfully ape a Cockney accent. Jessie, dressed in a cap, dress, and apron, joined him. She tugged on his arm. "Buzz Cratchit, stop workin' and come 'ave Christmas dinner with us!"

"But I have to finish my work or Sheriff Scrooge won't like it at all!"

She pulled him off the stool. "It's Christmas Eve! I's sure that ol' skinflint can do wit'out ya for a night!"

"But…"

"No buts!" She said firmly, dragging him to another part of the room. There was a table lit with candles and sitting around it, waiting for supper, were the three squeaky aliens.

"Goooose…" They said in unison.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Jessie scolded as she and Buzz took a seat. "We must wait for yer brother!"

"Here comes the lad now!" Said Buzz jovially. A giant crutch knocked Woody to the side. "Tiny Andy!"

Woody stood up and straightened his hat. "Tiny Andy?"

Andy took a spot as the table; he was massive in comparison to it. Buzz patted his knee. "There's a good boy!"

"Just our darlin' pride and joy!" Jessie added. Suddenly Andy began to hack and cough as if he had a hairball in his throat. Still, he smiled.

"Oh Mother I've been looking forward to Christmas dinner all year!"

There was a tray on the table and Jessie proudly pulled off the lid. Underneath was a cooked bird the size of a grape. "I's prepared ye all a meal fit for a king I 'ave!" Andy hacked some more.

Woody looked unimpressed. "I'm sorry, how exactly did I cause any of this?"

"It was your selfishness that cast a shadow of gloom among your fellow toys!" Buzz was trying to carry Andy on his shoulder but he couldn't bear the weight. The boy crashed on top of him, crushing the Ranger under his fanny.

Casper looked sorrowful. "I see a vacant spot in the corner, and a cowboy hat without an owner. If the child goes on like this I fear he will die." He put his face in his transparent hands and began to sob.

"Oh brother…"

The Friendly Ghost wiped his eyes and grabbed Woody's arm. "I got one more thing for you to see…"

In the very center of the room was a tombstone. "I suppose that's my grave." Woody intoned dryly. The name was covered in snow and as the Sheriff bent down, he wiped it away.

"'Harry Bailey: 1911-1919…'"

"Whoops!" Casper smiled sheepishly. "Wrong tombstone!" He pointed to one next to it. "That's yours!"

Woody stood up, wiping his hands on his knees. "This is ridiculous! I suppose next you'll have Prospector here and dressed up as the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come!"

He suddenly noticed a short squat figure in a hooded black cloak. There were boots sticking out from underneath the robe. "Will you get out of here!" Woody snapped. He crossed his arms as he watched the figure leave. "I gotta admit though the pick-ax as a scythe was pretty inspired," he muttered to Casper. The Ghost nodded in agreement.

"So, why are you doing this to me?" Woody asked. "Why are you picking on me?"

"I already told ya it's because of your own selfishness…"

"You keep calling me selfish!" Woody argued. "But I'm the one doing all the work for this Christmas party! I'm the one who no one will help! If anyone's selfish it's my friends…"

"Aren't you listening to yourself?" Interrupted Casper. "'I'm! I'm! I'm!' All you think about is you!"

"Oh whatever!" Woody said. "The point is, if I'm really so selfish, then why am I working so hard for everyone else?"

"Are you?"

Woody looked confused. "What?"

Casper got closer to his face. "Are you doing this for your friends?"

"Well yeah!" Woody answered. "They're the ones who wanted a party and they're the ones who won't lift a finger!"

Casper put his hands on his hips. "You oughta be ashamed of yourself!" He said. "Christmas is the time for friendship and good will!"

"I know, I know!" Woody rolled his eyes. "I've seen your Christmas short where you come down the chimney and pretend to be Santa!"

"Instead of thinking about all the things your friends won't do now, maybe you should start thinking of all the things they've already done for you! Trying to pull you and Buzz into the moving van last year…"

"They're the ones who threw me off!" The Cowboy protested.

Casper continued. "Rescuing you from a kidnapper, saving you from going to Japan, always looking up to you and…and going to you for help, and being there for you when you're down! Your friends love you and you should appreciate them instead of demanding they help you plan a party!"

Woody felt as though he'd been smacked in the face. He knew in his heart that Casper was right.

"You're right." Woody sighed and looked down. "I do have great friends…except for Potato Head and even he went out of his way to save me back in August."

"I wish I had friends like yours!" Lamented Casper. "In fact, I wish I had friends!"

Woody raised his brows. "Now that never made sense to me. You always have friends at the end of each episode but by the next one you're alone again."

"Narrative convenience," the Ghost replied.

"Woody?" Someone called. "Woody!"

Woody looked around. "Bo?"

"It's time for you to wake up," said Casper. "But there's one more thing before I go."

"What?"

Casper looked at him with hopeful eyes. "Will…will you be my friend?"

Woody shook his with a sigh. He smiled. "Sure Casper. I'll be your friend."

"Hooray!" He cheered, doing a flip in the air.

"Woody, come on Honey! Wake up!"

"Merry Christmas, Casper." Woody said as everything around him began to fade, Casper included.

"Merry Christmas, Sheriff Woody."