Disclaimer: I do not own Toy Story.

A/N I would like to thank everyone who 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?

Okay, so I would have concluded 'Bored', but then I found the beginning of this buried within my document files and I just had to finish it. So it'll be a few days until I conclude 'Bored'. A/N

"Woody?" Jessie suddenly asked as she slyly walked up to the Sheriff., who was currently trying to make arrangements for the weekly meeting - the word 'trying' being stressed with empathise - yet again. To Jessie, it seemed as if he couldn't get enough out of making arrangements.

For some reason, she found these words running through her mind; almost as if friction had taken its affect of a chain that was being dragged along the hard ground like a child grafitying the ground with the sharp edge of a rock:

'Making arrangements is an addiction like any other drug. Drugs like chocolate and those candy sticks that looked like fake cigarettes.'

Jessie had to force a smirk away at this thought. If Woody's obsession for making arrangements wasn't an addiction, then she sure as hell did not know what one was.

However, she forced these thoughts from her mind as she prepared herself to ask this one question:

"Why do you hate Kesha?"

Woody's eyebrows arched at this question as he slowly turned around to face the Cowgirl, the paper on the notepad he had been holding (with quite a struggle of course) crinkling slightly in the process

"Uh..." Woody began, his voice trailing off, having no idea what Jessie was planning against him, but knowing that she had to be planning something. Why on Earth would she come over here, when he was making arrangements, looking so sly in the first place? "Why do you ask Jess?"

It was after this when another thought suddenly occurred to the Sheriff. Maybe he didn't want to find out after all.

"Oh, I'm just wondering."

She actually wasn't planning anything, surprisingly (even though it would be rather fun to annoy the heck out of him). She really was just curious. How on Earth could someone hate Lady G and Ke$ha? It's, like, impossible.

"Why?" He asked expectantly, secretly hoping that this conversation could end soon. He really hated those artists mentioned previously; oh how he hated the sounds of their voices...

"'Cause it's not possible for someone to hate both Lady G and Kesha."

"No it isn't." Woody almost instantly protested, as if he were desperate to prove his point. "I hate them both."

"But you have no taste in music." Jessie pointed out in a rather arrogant way, therefore causing the Sheriff's eyebrows to furrow in annoyance

"I do too have taste in music!" Woody argued, only to have Jessie's everlasting smirk widen in response. He should've learned by now that this was never a good sign. But, to be honest, he was simply too offended to question her facial gestures.

"Says the 'manly' Sheriff that listens to Justina Biebella." Jessie remarked in a playful tone, understanding that she was tugging at his strings all too well. Oh how she understood the fact that she was messing with Woody's patience. However, to be honest, this was just too fun to even consider stopping.

"He's not a girl!" Woody protested almost instantly, rather annoyed with the Cowgirl as he gaped at her with a flabbergasted gaze. How dare she even insinuate such a thing!

"Oops...my mistake," Jessie answered cheerfully, a playful smirk tugging at the edges of her lips as she forced herself not to make it too obvious that she was still trying to annoy the heck out of the Sheriff.

However, before she even gave Woody the chance to answer, she then spoke up again:

"Whatcha doing there Sheriff?" She asked out of pure curiosity, even though she was sure that she knew what Woody was doing for certain.

"Going over the plans for the staff meeting," He answered half-heartedly, before turning away to straighten out the wrinkled sheet of paper that lay on top of the notepad, seeming gaping at Woody with a mocking gaze, of which the Sheriff forced himself to ignore entirely. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Ironing the paper?" Jessie suggested, knowing fully well that she was slowly approaching the line within the back of Woody's mind that drew a stop to absolutely everything, causing the Sheriff to freeze in his tracks almost instantly as he clung the long pencil to his chest. "I mean, come on Woody, everyone know's you have OCD."

At this statement, Woody's eyes grew wide, in either annoyance and fury or shock and disbelief. What did she just say?

However, instead of taking a deep breath and dealing with the situation in a calm and authoritative manner (like a real Sheriff should), Woody did something else much, much more different.

"I do not have OCD!" Woody exclaimed rather loudly, breathing deeply through grit teeth to keep himself from snapping completely as he slowly turned his head towards the Cowgirl, shooting Death glares in the process.

If looks had the ability to kill, then Woody would be in no such position at this moment. He would've died the day he came across the Cowgirl for the first time; if he hadn't have been killed by anyone else beforehand.

"You don't?" Jessie asked, in a rather innocent manner as a crazed idea entered her mind.

"No."

"So then..." The Cowgirl began before taking a casual step towards the Cowboy. "You wouldn't mind if I ripped a page out of the notepad?"

Woody's eyebrows arched at this. What on Earth was she even on about?

"Why would you do that?" Woody asked out of curiosity as he unknowingly picked the notepad up and hugged it closer to his chest.

"To prove that you wouldn't count the pages to make sure that the total is a square number."

Uh oh...she had looked right through him then. But the Sheriff did his best to not make this obvious.

"Like that's be something I'd do," Woody murmured in a nervous manner as he turned away from the Cowgirl, to make sure that she couldn't se his red face at that time.

"So...you wouldn't mind if I did?"

"No, of course not." Woody answered half-heartedly as he placed the notepad on the floor beside him, biting his lips and cringing in the process. "G-go ahead."

"If you say so."

Five minutes later

He could manage this. He was a Sheriff; he was made to be cool headed.

However, as he glanced over the small purple notepad beside him, the one of which Jessie had already ripped a page from (having been determined to embarrass him completely) he couldn't help but bite his lips as he felt his forehead heat up. If he hadn't been a toy at that moment, then he may have been sweating every ounce of bodily fluid out of him.

Eventually, he just couldn't manage it. So, picking up the notepad, he began to count the pages to himself.

"One...two...three."

A/N Wow, I can't believe this was how the chapter turned out. And I thought it would've been about music...lol!

Anyway, I really can't believe that I'm at moment ninety-nine already. One more chapter and I would've passed my original goal. So I guess I can only thank my readers that have supported me through this FanFic. You're all the best!

Oh, and tell me if you noticed the 'Seed of Chucky' reference at the start!

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

xxxxxxxxxShannonxxxxxxxxxx