Check out my new column on WhatCulture.com:

http://whatculture.com/film/10-biggest-movie-myths-about-the-apocalypse.php

I moved back to the place of my birth, Stillwater OK, in 1990. I was thirteen years old. Back in Texas, I was drinking, smoking weed, regularly skipping class, getting sent to adult re-education, and had the hair of a British rockstar. I came from a bad family with more problems than British Petroleum (emotional/physical abuse, neglect, poverty, blah blah blah). I was anti-social, didn’t speak, didn’t eat at cafeteria time, and very much wanted to disappear from the face of the earth rather than have to deal with any more teasing or bullying.

Four years later, I ran for Student Council President of Stillwater High School. [Read Column]

Background

Sheriff Woody was first introduced in Toy Story. He’s a 1960s era toy that belonged to a little boy named Andy. We journeyed with Woody and his friends as Andy grew out of childhood and into a young adult about to go to 4 years of institutionalized drinking … er … I mean college (Toy Story 3). Not having a need for toys any more, Andy decided against locking Woody in the attic or bringing him in a juvenile fit of nostalgia to campus (where undoubtedly a dorm mate would defile the doll in some unnatural means). Instead, he gave all of his toys to Bonnie, a little girl.

Of course, this is because Andy didn’t realize that Woody, Bullet, and Jessie are worth somewhere around a million dollars to toy collectors. Idiot. But I digress.

Premise

As the second owner, Bonnie is unlikely to be as appreciative of the Woody toy as Andy. Like that time I stole a GI Joe from that kid in 1st grade (Tripwire) and then I lost him a week later playing ‘buried alive’ in my yard. Plus, times they are a-changing as we saw with Andy’s little sister, Molly, who was already disinterested in toys in favor of sexting and roofies. Plus, lets assume that Bonnie and her family are the worst type of toy owners.

Christians.

That’s right. Christians are the Joseph Stalin of the plastic, little people. Why? Because Christians or other religious people in general have this misguided notion that they should help other people. Help others in the manner of donating toys to under-privileged children … or as I like to think of it forced, relocation of masses of people for ideological reasons. Oh, the horror.

Imagine the heartbreak of Buzz and Slinky-Dog when Woody is tossed into a toy drive crate by the heartless Bonnie. That bitch.

So Woody gets donated to an overseas toy drive program and ends up in … Pakistan.

The Red Cross or the Salvation Army distributes these orphaned toys to a bedraggled line of Nike factory workers. Sheriff Woody eventually finds a new owner, a small boy named Walid, living on the streets of his village after his family was killed by a stinger missile from of a predator drone. Only problem is … Walid isn’t interested in playing. No. He’s far more interested in going to the mosque where he gets to learn about the Great Satan.

By Act III, little Walid has been radicalized and is ready to give his life for the cause. He spends hours practicing in the mirror his most evil sounding last words.  Finally, the day has come for little Walid to visit the marketplace.  The best place to hide the C4, dynamite, dirty bomb, Khloe Kardashian pap smear?  Inside the toy.

The good news is that Woody died a martyr’s death and even toys get their 40 virgins …