Bob and I are cruising around town in a Jeep of his. At one point, we're in line at a red stoplight, look over, and there are some other kids we know (pretty sure their faces were random fuck kids from Madison) so Bob hope out to chat with them. In my head, I assumed Bob had pulled off the road somewhere safe... apparently not. Someone informs us the cops are coming to talk so we pull over and take a recliner out of the Jeep into the arcade we stopped in front of. The manager lady looked sketched out while Bob went to talk to the officer. I'm trying to figure out a nonchalant way to get rid of the weed hid away in compartments if the chair without getting caught. I go for broke, toss the containers in another room and mix the baggies with sand. As I go outside to talk to the cop with Bob, a German Shepherd runs up to me (a police dog) so I distract it by petting him while listening to Bob's conversation. We go back for the chair inside and the manager lady is clearly bothered. When she realizes we were looking for our weed she calls us out but said the cops couldn't find anything. Flash forward, Bob and I are at a house/cabin and he's visually upset so I go to comfort him. When I ask if he got in trouble he said no and began to perk up. After a solid bro hug, we both mention we have houses: mine in New Effington, his in Wheaton.