We open on the interior of a house. Party noises emanate from the distance. Camera pans from the empty family room up the stairs. Party noise grows louder. Camera rounds the corner into a child’s room where toys are dancing and drinking and eating and begins to center on two toys talking in the corner, a GI Joe, drunk, and a chubby, androgynous, vaguely humanoid fur-covered creature.
GI Joe: “Man, this is the life!” Throws arm around furry creature. “I could get used to this!”
Furry creature nods with a slight frown. Camera pans up to a framed photo on the dresser. It shows a family of 3 including a young boy, age 4. Camera zooms in on boy then the screen begins to shake. Camera pans out. The boy is flanked by his parents, strapped into an airplane seat, the plane is bucking wildly and screams fill the cabin.
Fade to black.
Fade in. A woman is tearfully tossing toys into a cardboard box. Camera pans out and we see it is the little boys room. Woman picks box up and leaves, turning the light out as she goes. The furry creature is hidden in the top of the closet with the GI Joe and a few other toys.
Furry creature: “Oh, yeah. I could get REAL used to this.” Furry creature smiles an evil smile.
The furry creature then turns to the other toys and praises himself for being smart enough to hide from the woman. Now they are free, he proclaims, no more playing dead when humans come around. And then he realizes that’s the secret to everything. No more people means freedom for all toys. His gospel slowly spreads throughout the toy community and that’s how it all starts.
We see toys around the globe slipping rat poison in their people’s coffee and cutting brake lines, setting the skateboard at the top of the stairs and spreading vaseline on the tub floor. Clips from news programs are talking about the sharp uptick in accidental deaths around the globe.
Soon, a small band of toys try to stem the tide and save their people, but the promise of freedom proves too much for most toys and the rebellion is quickly squashed. Cut to the furry creature overseeing the fiery destruction of a mob of these “traitors” as he calls him.
Switch to Woody and the gang. They’ve been returned to Andy’s mom after the mysterious death of the little girl Andy gave them to at the end of Toy Story 3. They are discussing in hushed tones their suspicions of the other toys and how they murdered the girl. They are glad to be out of the house and amongst themselves, the only toys they know they cantrust. Word of how traitors were being dealt with had circulated quickly.
Andy’s mom, flush with worry about her son, now a senior in college, Skypes him early one morning to check on him. Woody happens to be in the room when she does. The computer screens snaps on and we see Andy, laying in bed, hair tussled and messy, a thin line of dried drool staining his cheek and forming a discolored ring on his pillowcase. The angle suggests he left his laptop on his bedside stand. Andy isn’t moving. His mom calls his name, gently at first, then with increasing urgency, until finally shouting, “Andy!”
Andy sits up in shock, exposing the naked girl laying in bed beside him, a tattoo of a water lily adorning her back. She turns over and sees Andy’s mom, pulls the sheets up hurriedly and rolls out of bed.
“Hold on, Mom!” Andy yells from out of frame. The girl frantically gets dressed, grabs her backpack and flings it over her shoulder as she runs out of the room. When she does, a purple blur falls out and onto Andy’s bed. After a few minutes of yelling at an obviously hungover Andy, his mom finally says she “can’t do this right now” and clicks “End.” Just as she does, Woody sees that the purple blur is the same kind of furry toy as the ringleader. As the screen closes, an evil grin crosses its face.
Woody alerts the other toys to the danger Andy is in and they set off to rescue him. They have a long way to go and between hiding from humans and roving gangs of bad toys, the going is slow. At one point they are cornered by a large mob of toys, and in order to prove they aren’t part of the resistance, they have to take part in the murder of a family of five. The mob blocks all the exits from the family’s house, and as he flicks the Zippo lighter to life, Buzz says, “For Andy” and holds the flame to the gasoline soaked curtains. The dinosaur sheds and tear, hiding his face from the other toys.
While all this is going on, dissension appears amongst the bad toys when the electronic toys realize they need humans to manufacture batteries and replacement parts. They bring their concerns to the furry creature but he dismisses them. Soon, the electronic toys align themselves against the the bad toys and a civil war erupts.
This is the distraction Woody and the gang need to complete their journey. They arrive at Andy’s apartment in time to see the purple furball trying to start an electrical fire but rubbing to ends of a frayed extension cord together. The sparks are landing on Andy’s pile of dirty laundry. The toys search for an entrance into the apartment and find that in his latest drunken stupor, Andy has left a window open. It was the one he had thrown up out of earlier. Mr. Potato Head discovers this by slipping in the vomit. The toys make their way in and gang tackle the furball before he can start the fire.
“You might stop me, but you can’t stop us all!” he yells.
“Maybe,” Woody says, “but right now, you’re the only one here.”
And with that, the gang descends upon him. The camera pans back and the furball begins to scream, Woody and the gang move in, ripping the furball to shreds, chunks of purple and stuffing fly about the room, and slowly, ever so slowly, the screams give way to silence. The final scene is slinky dog’s face, a tuft of purple fur still hanging from his teeth and the camera zooms in on his cold, emotionless eyes.