Frampton Cotterell is quite a mixed little place. On the edge of the Ghetto that is Bristol, It has a varied mix of inhabitants. From low-rent chavs, up to not quite as low-rent chavs, you are always guarenteed an interesting time. Frampton Cotterell only really comes into its own (literally) when the sun goes down. Whether its being asked to buy White Lightining by the local hoodies just out of Highcroft, to being offered Tostrifomen by people with six fingers.

When some little bitchboy is acting like a little tiny pee pee poo poo baby and messing up the group plans.