The Trouble with Talking Toys

As any parent knows, toys that talk, play music or make any sound whatsoever are annoying as hell. Anyone who gives a gift that makes sound to a child should first have to listen to said toy on repeat for three hours and then decide if it's a good gift. Spoiler alert: it's not. But children love them and grandparents love to buy them as retribution.
This is not the problem I am referring to, however. These toys are trying to kill me via heart attack. When Emmet was one-ish I was putting groceries into the car and a man's muffled voice said something right behind me. My heart stopped, and I turned to face my attacker. No one was there. The voice came again... turns out I had a transformer car in my purse telling me to "transform and roll ooouuuuttt!"
Last fall, we were driving in the car and Emmet was quiet in the back in deep thought. Then he says, "Mama..." pensive pause... "Mama, (do you) have a Buzz?" Seeing as I was newly pregnant, driving a car, and it was three o'clock in the afternoon - I gathered he was referring to the Lightyear rather than the Cabernet variety. So I (wistfully) responded, "No, buddy, unfortunately Mama does not have a Buzz." To which he said, " I don't have a Buzz, either, Mama - I just have a Woody." Thank you Toy Story for that completely inappropriate conversation - which actually has nothing to do with what I'm talking about, I just think its funny. He, of course, gets a talking Buzz and Woody for Christmas from his grandparents. Fast forward to four days ago when he dunks Woody into a bucket of rainwater after explicitly being told that talking toys can't get wet. Woody went to the toy hospital to dry, along with a Lightning McQueen that I had to disassemble. I checked it every so often to see if it still worked and it did. Once it was completely dry, I gave it back to Emmet, he pulled his string, but no talking. Oh well, I thought this was a good lesson for him to learn. HOURS later as we were getting up from naptime, we hear from downstairs, "Howdy, Partner!" and "Yeehaw!" Our Woody is apparently possessed, talking only when he wants to. This has gone on for a few days now, and Woody seems to be getting chattier with each passing day. I sent Chad this text today, "The Woody Doll is talking a lot in the playroom by himself. So, it's just me and the voice of Tom Hanks here at the house... totally normal."
I guess I'm off to bury him in the backyard, lest I be chopped up while I sleep - I mean, I remember the ghost stories from 4th grade. Ah, the joys of parenthood.