Andy was grumbling to himself as he was walking away from his English class. During the week, his class had been in the early stages of an assignment due a week from now. In the spirit of the story about a little girl they had been reading, everyone had to write a paper about how they saw children based on their own observations. Since most admitted to having no exposure to children recently since they had been away at school, the professor had suggested that they observe the young ones who played in the local community, which was very family-oriented despite the presence of a liberal arts college.

Today, the professor had gone around the room and asked if anyone had made progress. Not everyone had, but those that did sounded like they were all writing about the same thing. In other words, they were cutting corners by going to the same public areas with children, who were doing very similar things and thus, all the papers sounded alike. Andy, being the straight-A student he was, was always trying to be different from everyone else in his work, so he had every right to feel annoyed.

Andy, an English major, really couldn't have picked a worse time to have writer's block. The assignment was due in a week and many who were getting by with Bs and Cs already had a head start. He had worked hard throughout his first year of college and now into his second, he was not about to slip up and fall into the category of common students. Maybe he was setting his standards too high, but he believed that even one assignment with less than an A grade would ruin his academic reputation, one he had kept up for as long as he'd been in school.

Andy got back to his dorm room, threw down his backpack and plopped down in his chair, his roommate already having gone home for the weekend. Looking to unwind, he took a bouncy ball out of his desk and starting tossing it up and down. While he was testing out his hand-eye coordination, inspiration hit him and hit him big: an idea that he wondered why he hadn't thought of already. Quickly, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and dialed the number to make arrangements.

The next morning, Bonnie found herself in the midst of another adventure with her toys. In this one, the Scary Witch had teamed up with One-Eyed Bart and One-Eyed Betty to rob every bank in an otherwise sleepy Western town. Of course, Sherriff Woody, Buzz Lightyear and Jessie had been called upon to save the day. Before the cowgirl could square off in a showdown with the Witch herself, the doorbell rang.

"Who could that be?" Bonnie asked her toys. "No one was supposed to come today. I'll be right back."

As soon as their owner left to check things out, the toys came alive.

"Darn it!" exclaimed Jessie. "Just when it was getting interesting!"

"Don't worry," said Dolly. "Bonnie hasn't left a story hanging before. Why would she start now?"

"No time like the present," said Mr. Potato Head. "It could be the first sign she's outgrowing us already! Girls mature faster than boys!"

At this, Mrs. Potato Head slapped the back of her husband.

"Must you be so pessimistic?" she asked.

The spud was at a loss for words, so he just stood there, embarrassed by what he'd said.

"Hey guys!" shouted Hamm from the windowsill. "Isn't that Andy's car?"

All of Andy's former toys rushed to the window. There was the blue sedan Andy had driven off in the day he left them with Bonnie. Downstairs, the sounds of greetings could be heard. If Woody had a heart, it would have skipped a beat.

"Oh my gosh," said Woody, breathing heavily. "Could he actually be coming back to visit?"

"Or take us back!" yelled Rex.

"Perhaps," said Mr. Pricklepants. "But since Bonnie's still young, I don't think she's ready to give you up."

"Plus, it's only been a year since Andy left," said Buzz. "I don't think he has kids to give us to just yet."

"Well what could it be about then?" asked Slinky.

"I'm not sure, Slink," answered Woody. "But it would sure be nice to see him again."

"Someone's coming!" yelled Buttercup, who was stationed near the door.

There were indeed footsteps coming up the stairs. All the toys assumed the positions Bonnie left them and froze. The door opened, and sure enough, Bonnie came in and Andy, pen and notebook in hand, was with her. Woody was tempted to jump up and give Andy a big hug, but thought better of it.

"So what do you want me to do again?" asked Bonnie.

"Well," responded Andy. "As I told your mom over the phone, I'm writing a paper about children for a class. Everyone else is writing about the same thing, so I decided to come home for the weekend and turn to you. Simply, I just want you to play with my…er, your toys like you normally would. Just pretend I'm not here."

"Um, okay," said Bonnie, who was obviously finding the notion a little weird.

"I'm just going to sit on your bed and take notes," continued Andy. "You won't even notice me."

"All right," said Bonnie. "I guess that's okay."

"Very well, then," said Andy, taking his place on the bed. "Now, I see you've already got something going here. What's happening?"

Bonnie relayed to Andy everything that had happened so far and then continued with her playtime. As the story unfolded, Andy scribbled down anything that came to mind based on what he was watching. The more he watched the little girl, the more inspired he became. Yes, this paper was going to be a goldmine.

Even as he was writing down what he was thinking as he observed Bonnie, Andy couldn't help following the story she was making up as she went along. He knew it would end with the bad guys getting their comeuppance and being thrown in jail or something like that. Sure enough, Woody, Buzz and Jessie saved the day while One-Eyed Bart, One-Eyed Betty and the Witch were incarcerated. Andy chuckled to himself, loving the fact that the little girl he gave his toys to had the same stories he created when he was a little boy.

"Nicely done, Bonnie," said Andy. "I'm bound to get an A for sure now."

"Wanna set up the next adventure?" asked Bonnie.

"Pardon me?" responded Andy, clearly not expecting this question.

"Your toys haven't seen you in a long time," explained Bonnie. "I'm sure they miss you. Can't you stay a little longer? You know you want to."

Andy considered the thought.

"Well, what does Woody say about it?" he asked.

Bonnie picked up the cowboy and pulled his string.

"Somebody's poisoned the waterhole!" said his voice box.

"I see," said Andy. "This looks like the work of Evil Dr. Porkchop!"

"Oh no!" shouted Bonnie as she grabbed Hamm and put Mr. Potato Head's hat on him.

"Not only that," Andy went on. "One-Eyed Bart has lent him the use of his force field dog to protect him!"

"Who can stop all this?" Bonnie wondered dramatically.

"Buzz Lightyear, that's who!" declared Andy. "Don't forget Woody and Jessie either. They're riding to the rescue on Bullseye!"

So for the first time since leaving for college, Andy was playing with his old toys again. Bonnie's toys got in on the action too. This would be a great paper indeed. Andy could see the positive feedback from his professor written all over his yet-to-be-typed assignment and as he did so often as a kid, he credited his toys for something good in his life.