If a person should visit the bedroom of a certain teenager named Andy Davis (aged sixteen years, nine months, and two weeks), that person would firstly notice the innumerable heavy metal posters pasted all over the walls of the room. On a second glance, it would be clear that the floor is totally covered in food wrappers, books, dirty laundry, and even an electric guitar.
All in all, Andy's room is the room of a typical male teenager.
But if the visitor should take a look under Andy's bed, he/she would notice something odd.
The floor under the bed is perfectly clean, devoid of any form of a mess. The floor is absolutely uncluttered.
Except for the Box.
The Box is a large-sized, brown cardboard box, of the kind that is normally used to pack things into when somebody is moving house. But the Box is NOT filled with things that are to be moved to another house.
Should said visitor open the Box, he/she would notice that the Box is filled with a messy assortment of broken toys. There are vintage Mr. And Mrs. Potato Head toys, toy soldiers that are missing limbs, a Slinky Spring Dog with a snapped spring, and even a smashed Buzz Lightyear toy. The toys are all broken beyond repair, but still hold great meaning to Andy.
But why does Andy value them in such a way? This is the story… A 'Toy Story', if you please…
Three years ago, Andy's first (illegal) rave party
Andy's house was jam-packed full of partying teenagers, a 13-year-old Andy among them. Heaping plates of food were being consumed by the male teenagers present at such inhumanely high-speeds that 'inhaling' would probably have been a better word for their act of food consumption rather than 'eating'. The house was a colossal mess. Rock-n-roll music was blasting out of the Davis family's stereo. Andy's mom and sister had left town for the weekend, visiting Aunt Edna.
In short, a normal (illegal) teenager rave party, held when the folks weren't around.
But the party (which had been pretty much under control, from Andy's point of view) had turned ugly when two attendees, Jon and Lisa, had gone into his bedroom (we shall NOT discuss what they had been planning to do…) and found his mint-condition collection of vintage toys. The aforementioned toys had been hauled out into the hall, where Jon and Lisa had confronted Andy about them.
However, things went from bad to worse when a herd of jocks had decided to 'play' with Andy's treasured toys (although what they considered to be playing would most likely have been labeled as destroying by the standards of normal people). The toys suffered, in one way or another.
RC the remote-controlled car was driven onto the street, where he was run over by a police patrol car (that coincidentally was investigating reports that a noisy disturbance of peace was happening on the street where Andy lived). Slinky the slinky spring dog was used as a catapult by the jocks (with Mr. and Mrs. Potato being the slugs, and Bo Peep as the target), until his spring snapped in three places simultaneously. Woody the cowboy was rendered legless by two girls who played tug-of-war over him (with him as the rope). The toys would forever remember that night to be a night of pain and suffering.
The police eventually crashed (and ended) the party. A whole horde of rowdy teenagers were hauled off to the station for questioning (most likely regarding the 'noisy disturbance of peace' and underage drinking), and the rest ordered to return home.
Most of the teenagers were happy (or piss-drunk until they thought that they were happy), except for one.
After the party, he quietly went about the house picking up the pieces of what used to be his beloved toys (he even went out onto the road to pick up the flattened mess that once was RC). Once he had gathered all of them on his bed, he cried his heart out. The whole time they (the toys) were being tortured, he had been silent, not wanting to look like a sissy mamma's boy in front of the 'coolest' people from his school. The need/urge to fit in with the 'cool gang' was overwhelming, until he wouldn't do a thing to save his treasured toys.
But his tears couldn't fix the toys, and so he finally got up to clean up the house.
Every year after that, Mrs. Davis wondered why Andy never wanted to invite his 'friends' from school over for his birthday or Christmas.
So now you know the sad story of how the Box came to be. It is a tragic story, a perfect example of how the peer pressure that teenagers face (they are pressured into being conformists) can destroy what they love most. In Andy's case, his toys were ruined.
Now, three years later, Andy has become a juvenile delinquent. His mom is at her wits end trying to correct his ways. He has picked up smoking, stealing, truancy, and other bad habits that were forced upon him by the cruel conformist culture that his 'friends' are a part of (those very 'friends' are also the people who corrupted him). He behaves like he enjoys being the person that he currently is (when he is around his 'friends'), but deep down inside, he's as lonely as can be.
Every now-and-then, when he's feeling especially lonely and/or depressed, he'll reach under his bed, and take out the Box.
To remind himself of a time when he was innocent and carefree, happily playing with his toys.