Hello SP fans! The premise of this story is a continuation of Coon and Friends, only a few years in the future. It came from a conversation I had with my sister about what would happen if the boys got REAL superpowers. We were also tossing around ideas about what the powers would be, and also what they would be for some kids who weren't in the Coon and Friends gang (cause face it girls, yall want to see more of Craig, or so I'm told). Chances are, our ideas will be overwritten by the SP canon at some point, but this is SP; retconning has no power of disbelief over the continuity.

This story will have some of my OC's eventually, but that's mainly so the poor bad guys don't get overwhelmed lol. They'll be needing some backup.

By the way, this is gonna have loads of action and danger if I have anything to say about it. Oh and probably the occasional romance; I am a girl after all, I can't escape it. The story also starts off with me doing my own parody of SP's tendency for vulgarity, but this is actually the lead into the plot.

So sit back and enjoy the first of what will probably be many chapters of The Extreme Avenger League!

By the way, all rights for South Park and its characters go to Trey Parker and Matt Stone. I'm not crazy enough to come up with this mess. . .

Chapter 1: The Bracelets

Journal Entry #1:

This is f&%# gay. OK no, the fact that I actually typed f&%# is what's gay, the whole journal thing is simply stupid. Just when I thought there was no end to my parents' stupidity, they do THIS to me. Freakn' retarded . . .

But thats not why I'm writing. Oh no, I'd rather gripe about that in person. But that WAS a catalyst for the reason I'm writing. Or I should say the reason Cartman is making me write. Something about how this would sell for millions of dollars and get its own movie or some garbage like that. But I suppose I should be grateful, because maybe laying it all out in words on paper will help me make sense of what the heck has happened to me . . .

I looked hard at the bracelet that was wrapped around my wrist like a handcuff. "You've got to be kidding me."

My mother shook her head. "No, sorry sweetie, but the other parents and I have all agreed. We're simply tired of your foul language around the house!"

"This is f%& ridiculous!" I yelled, then slapped my hand over my mouth. Where I had meant to start swearing like a sailor, instead only beeps came flying off my tongue.

"There, see?" she said. "Better already!"

"This is a direct infringement on my constitutional rights!"

"Oh don't be such a drama queen, Stan," my dad finally spoke. "Its . . . probably not that bad . . ."

"YOU put this d&%# thing on then!" I screamed at him. He simply scratched his head and avoided eye contact by turning to the toaster that had suddenly spazzed and spat some toast onto the table. Somehow, I doubt he was all that into this thing either, but had probably agreed just to keep Mom off his back.

I gave the bracelet a hard yank, but there was nothing for it. The thing was metallic and somehow completely fused around my wrist. I'd woken up with the blasted thing on, and had quickly discovered its extremely annoying side effect.

I paused. "Wait, you said you and the other parents . . ."

"Yes Stanley, the other boys are getting one too! Isn't that great?"

As if on cue, my cell phone rang.

"Ten bucks says this is Kyle, about to tell me how NOT great this is," I growled, then pulled up the phone. It flicked on before I had gotten it completely in my grip, which was a little weird.

"OMG Stan dude you would not BELIEVE what my mom has done to me!" a shrill voice cried angerly from the phone.

"Yup," I sighed, holding the phone away from my ear. I stormed out of the kitchen, deciding to skip breakfast, and just headed upstairs while still holding the phone away from my ear. I could easily make out Kyle's voice on the other end still exploding in a fit of rage; judging from the near constant beeping I was hearing, he'd woken up to the same unhappy realization I had.

"Kyle, shut up!" I said finally. "That beeping is f&% annoying!"

There was a pause on the other end. "Oh no, you've got one too," I heard him groan.

"Yeah, and I suspect so does Cartman and Kenny," I replied. "Mom was telling me that this new electronic bracelet is all the rage in families these days." I threw my backpack on my bed to vent some frustration.

"Electronic, you say?" Kyle said, and I couldn't resist a smile. I could just hear his brain start whirring over the possibilities of somehow rewiring the thing.

"Dude I need to grab my stuff, I'll meet you over at the bus stop OK?" I said. If Kyle was thinking, I'd have a better chance of being a part of his thought process in person.

"This. Is. WEAK!"

"Good morning to you too, Cartman," I sighed as I got out of my blue '10 Camaro. I'd pulled up to the bus stop which was where we usually met up for rides to school from whoever was driving that week. Cartman and Kenny were already there, both looking livid. Cartman had his arms folded around his wide chest. The years had lost some of his baby fat but not all, and he'd bulked out some for football. The result was the largest linebacker of any high school in Colorado; maybe not the tallest, but definitely largest overall. That and his reputation for having no problems whatsoever bulldozing over anyone in his way was one of the big reasons our football team was doing so well.

I was the other.

Kenny on the other hand, couldn't have been more opposite. He slouched next to Cartman with his hands in his orange parka pockets. He was extremely thin and lanky, even through that heavy coat, and looked like he might blow away in the wind. His hood was, as usual, pulled tightly around his face, only revealing his eyes. Kyle once said he suspected that was how Kenny shut out the unfairness of the world around him, and could therefore still manage to be a rather cheerful person despite the hardships of his life. And so, no matter how old he got, he always had an orange parka, with the hood shut up like a clam shell.

He wasn't cheerful at the moment though, and neither was Cartman. "You know who's fault this is?" Cartman piped up again. He waved a wrist and I could see the infernal device attached to it. "Ah bet this is that f*% Jew's mother's fault! That b*%^#!"

Without warning, he swung his arms violently and both Kenny and I had to take a step back. "AUGH AH HATE THIS!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. I swear he grew fangs and gnashed his teeth, he was so furious.

"Finally, something fata$# and I can agree about," I heard an annoyed tone of voice behind me say. I looked around to see a familiar, redheaded boy striding up to the bus stop and fiddling with a lime green ushanka in his hands. The moment Kyle had gotten permission to have a say in his own hairstyle he'd buzzed his jewfro short to a much more manageable length. Despite this, he still wore his trademark hat, just like his friends often wore their own. Heaven knows I never left home without my blue cap, which was currently slammed over my own black hair.

"F&%^ off Jew, I didn't ask ya for yer opinion," Cartman snapped.

My super best friend flashed him a familiar gesture. At least that was something we could still do.

"Kyle, you seemed to be getting an idea over the phone," I said. "Have you-"

"-Tried anything yet?" he said, finishing my sentence. Kyle held up his wrist and examined his own handcuff. "I'd love to try to tinker with it," he said, and by the irritated tone in his voice I could feel my hopes drop, "But the thing is sealed up tight. I don't even get how they got them on our wrists; it looks like one solid loop of metal to me."

[Creepy], Kenny's muffled voice said.

"Ah wonder if anyone else at school has tah deal with this garbage," Cartman muttered.

The moment they stepped into school, Craig was in their face. The tall boy gave them the usual gesture, only he seemed unusually not apathetic about it.

"I see you got one too," I remarked, glancing at the garnished wrist attached to his finger.

"Shut up," he growled, then glared at Kyle. "This is-"

"-My fault? How?" Kyle exclaimed.

"There, see? Ah told ya so!" Cartman said.

Craig scowled at Kyle's interruption. "My mom had a long talk with your mom, Brofloski," he said. "And now look." He waved his hand with the bracelet in a repeat of his earlier sign.

"Hey, I-I got one too!" I heard a cheerful voice behind us pipe up.

I glanced behind myself to frown at Butters. The small boy had come jogging up and sure enough, he had on a bracelet too. "My mom said it was an early-an early birthday present! Isn' that nice of her?"

"Go away Butters, before Ah kill ya with mah bare hands," Cartman growled. He was in a worse mood than usual apparently. I wondered how long it would take till he and Kyle were at each others' throats again.

"How are you happy to have this?" Kyle asked in surprise.

"W-well, its a present, isn' it?" Butters said, admiring his bracelet. "Its always nice to get presents!"

"You are all pathetic," Craig muttered, then marched off.

[Takes one to know one!] Kenny called after, but his muffled reply met only with another finger.

School was worse than usual. Some of the student body was moping around either depressed or thoroughly ticked off, while the rest of them strode around like kings, showing off their bare wrists and firing vulgar insults at those who couldn't retaliate in kind. It didn't take long for fights to begin breaking out randomly. Kyle and Cartman themselves got in at least four scraps apiece before lunch, and only two of them were with each other. The school faculty had their hands full trying to maintain order. Seriously, and parents thought this was a good idea?

I sat in the lunchroom, using a fork to poke around my school lunch ravioli and scowling up at a sputtering light right above my head. Kyle sat on one side of me, chewing through a sandwich and looking lost in thought. Kenny sat on my other side, eying my uneaten food and tugging his bracelet (a habit he'd already formed). Cartman sat on his other side, shoveling his food in like his life depended on it. While it was hard to call him obese anymore, he was still large enough to suggest his mother spent half her paychecks to keep him supplied with cheezy poofs and other snacks. On the other side of the table sat Craig, Clyde, Token, and Tweek. They all ate looking rather sullen, except Tweek who was gripping his shirt and darting his eyes around the room.

"Oh *&^#%," he moaned, then yelped when his own bracelet beeped him. "AUGH! I can't take this! Too much pressure, man! Too much pressure!"

I sighed. Poor Tweak was probably gonna have a heart attack for sure this time.

"Tweak, you gotta learn to say something else, if the beeping startles you that much." Token said.

"I can't help it!" he cried, pulling his wild blonde hair. "I just say things, ya know? They just come out! Then the beep comes . . . it comes every single time! Oh *&%^% - GAAAH!" He gave a violent jerk that made him fall right off the lunchtable bench.

I could see annoyance starting to build in the faces of everyone else at the table. They were having a hard enough time dealing with this, the last thing they needed was for Tweek to be shrieking and beeping every five seconds. I opened my mouth to try to tell Tweek that maybe he should just learn sign language, when I heard a voice behind me.

"Hey Stan? Can I talk to you for a moment?"

I froze, my heart jumping somewhere up in my mouth. The rest of the gang gave me an apologetic look, expect for Cartman, who just snorted. "You heard the b*%&," he said, ignoring his own beep. "Do what the ball-and-chain commands."

"Nice to see you talking civilly for once, Cartman," Wendy said sarcastically as I turned to face her. "Its a vast improvement to your usual vocabulary."

Cartman stiffened, his nose wrinkling up. "Learn tah use words yourself, wench; the amount of perfume you load on tah impress your dumb jock reeks."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "She's not wearing that much; I barely notice it."

"That's 'cause Jews have no sense of smell, or they could tell they stink."


Folding her arms, Wendy scowled at Cartman. "Leave it to Fatso here to be sensitive to anything that can help him track food down and nothing else. I bet you he can tell what's cooking in the cafeteria before you even get on campus. Too bad that bracelet can't also keep your appetite under control."

"AY!" Cartman said, rounding on her also. "Ah bet ya love this, don't ya? Ya little hippie freak! Well, don't get used tah it, cause nothing, and Ah mean nothing, whips Eric Cartman! Ah'll be back tah mah usual slandering self soon, Ah can promise ya that! There is gonna be H#*% tah pay! Oh g#d&#^^%, f&#^* breast cancer awareness bracelet. . ."

Somewhere in the background, I heard Butters calling my name, but I ignored it; too focused on Wendy.

Wendy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, let me know how that turns out," she said to Cartman, then looked at me. Her eyes were still the same captivating violet even when they were annoyed. Her black hair hadn't changed much over the years in style, but she herself had turned into a bombshell. Her skin was smooth, body curvy, and hair shining. She didn't quite advertize her figure like her friend Bebe did by wearing clothes that covered less than they revealed, because she didn't need to. As much as I hated to admit it to the guys, she had me wrapped around her finger no matter what she was wearing. Although sometimes I did fantasize-

"Stan!" her sharp voice rang out.

Kyle elbowed me hard in the ribs. "Dude!"

"Wha? Oh, sorry," I said, shaking myself out of my daze. G&%# d*%# it, after all these years, I'd like to talk to her just once without my head going off for lunch.

Wendy reached over and grabbed my hand. I felt my stomach start flipping around like a fish out of water, until I noticed that it was the hand with the bracelet. I could hear Butters was shrieking about something now, maybe getting beat up again. Was hard to concentrate on anything when Wendy had my hand.

"Yup, just as I thought, you too," she muttered, pulling my hand so she could inspect my arm. "And I've just heard that Kyle and Cartman have the same problem." She flashed her own wrist. "Bebe and I got them also. She's been crying in the bathroom all day. Something about how she has nothing to go with it or some other nonsense."

"You girls got one too?" Kyle said in surprise.

Wendy growled. "Been trying to figure it out all day, but the thing is secure like Fort Knox."

A commotion was growing with Butter's high voice topping them all. Why couldn't he just shut up?

"Where did these things even come from?" I asked, trying to ignore whatever scene Butters was causing. If anyone knew about these strange devices, it would be Wendy.

She looked thoughtfully at her wrist. "From what I can find online, some company started toting them about three months ago," she said. "Its motto is that those who are clean or some garbage can reach their full potential, blah blah blah."

Cartman raised an eye. "So a company is behind this?" he said, an evil smile creeping across his face.

I sighed, wondering just how long it would take Cartman to ruin this one. The last company he'd tangled with had been a year and a half ago, and they'd filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy within a month after he'd gotten involved in their stocks. All because they'd canceled one of his favorite chip flavors. The monster.

"Sorry Cartman, but this company is strangely secretive," Wendy said. "They haven't even gone public with stocks. Even you might find ruining them-"

"Pretty d*&% difficult, yeah," Kyle finished.

"G&% d&%# it Kyle, cut that out!" I said, flinching at the beeps from my mouth. "What is with you today?"

He just blinked while Cartman shrugged. "Difficult maybe. Impossible, no. They gotta learn tah deal with mah athoritah!"

Kenny rolled his eyes.

That's when the lunchroom exploded.