Disclaimer: I do not own Toy Story.

A/N I would like to thank everyone that has reviewed, sent a suggestion, added this story to alert, added to favourites or have even taken time to read it. What would I do without y'all? A/N

"Why do you hate the Magic 8 Ball's?" Rex asked out of curiosity as he continued to follow the Sheriff around Bonnie's room, who had been unable to keep himself from grunting aloud as the green Tyrannosaurus Rex continued to pester Woody with the same question over and over. This must've been the fifth time Rex has asked the Woody that in the last three minutes. And boy was it annoying the hell out of Woody.

At first, he had just dismissed the question with a half-hearted shrug of the shoulders. But then the reoccuring questions began to irritate the Sheriff beyond his usual extent.

So when Rex asked that question again, Woody rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. Seeing absolutely no way out of this situation, Woody then asked a question of his own:

"Fine," Woody began half-heartedly, forcing the ominous tone from his voice as he tried to keep control of his temper. It would not be a good sign if he just snapped at the dinosaur now, especially when Rex has obviously noticed something wrong about the Sheriff's behaviour. "But if I answer your question, will you please stop pestering me?"

"Of course," Rex muttered shyly, trying to keep the embarrassment from heating up his plastic cheeks (if that was even theoretically possible for a toy of his make).

After a few moments of silence, Rex then spoke up again.

"Well...?" Rex asked expectantly. "Why do you hate them?"

Sighing, Woody then answered. He really did not want to go through with this, but Rex was only giving him one other choice; and boy was it a bad one.

"Because they never give you a straight answer when you ask them a question." Woody stated, remembering the time around ten minutes before when he had asked the ball a question (the same one he had asked to get the answer 'Please come back later' the time afterwards), only to receive an answer stating that he had no chance.

So this was the main reason why he officially hated those Magic 8 Ball's now.

"They do give you a straight answer," Rex protested in a voice of almost pure innocence; almost as if he had the tone of an angel drilled into his plastic skull, of which loomed through his mind dangerously until he was able to pick out the precise point in which he should inflict his angelic processes amoung his victims.

"No they don't," Woody argued.

"Yeah they do."

"When?" Woody asked in an expectant voice, before folding his arms across his chest in a prove-it manner.

Rex then allowed his mind to drift back to the time when he last used the Magic 8 Ball. He remembered almost tripping over the large ball a couple of weeks before and abruptly smiling when he figured out what it was. And then he, with the utmost eager expression, asked the question into the ball, after being sure he wasn't being watched at that moment, and shook it from side to side with all of his strength before he finally had his answer. And boy had it been a decent one.

"Well..." Rex began to murmur as he racked his mind through the details of that event. "I found the ball the other week and I asked it if Trixie was going to play the new Call of Duty game with me, and it said yes."

Woody's jaw dropped for a moment, before he shook his head and stiffened his posture. He wasn't going to have Rex prove him wrong just like that! Boy would it be embarrassing if he did. Not to mention the fact that he'd never hear the end of it if that was what happened; literally.

"That could've just been a coincidence." Woody suggested. And, even though he tried not to show it, he was secretly anxious. "And besides, you don't need to ask a Magic 8 Ball if she'll play a game with you."

Woody had only brought this up because it was obvious that Rex and Trixie do absolutely everything together, and because of the fact that Trixie completely 'loved' computer games. And she'd never ever say no to playing Call of Duty. That was most likely her favourite game.

"Yeah, I know," Rex murmured nervously as he anxiously wrung his hands together. The Tyrannosaurus Rex wasn't sure whether it was Woody suddenly turning the situation around that made him anxious, or whether it was the fact that Rex was currently dishing out a nice bowl, full to the brim of his personal worries and fears, to the Sheriff. "But I just wanted to make sure that she's say yes."

"Magic 8 Ball's aren't always right, y'know?" Woody asked in a voice that seemed to be the voice of a man with high authority.

"They aren't?" Rex asked, suddenly seeming to see the errors in his previous beliefs.

"Nope."

However, it was then that Rex began to question some more.

"But if they're never right, they why were you using one before?" Rex asked in confusion, completely unable to understand why the Sheriff would proceed in such an irrational action.

But this question seemed to catch the Cowboy off guard.

Yeah...the Sheriff really hadn't thought of that...

However, even though Woody regretted his decision to even use a Magic 8 Ball, Jessie was currently loving her experience all the more.

A/N Hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it was incredibly short! I have now officially decided that I'm going to extend this fic to at least 120 Moments (possibly 150 if I can)

Feel free to send a review or a suggestion if you want!

xxxxxxxxxShannonxxxxxxxxx