王二狗把手机往桌子上一扔，愤愤地瞪着眼前的老李。老李正搓着手，脸上笑得跟朵菊花似的，手里还端着个搪瓷缸子，里面飘着几片茶叶。“我说老李，你小子又搞啥名堂呢？”王二狗啐了一口，唾沫星子差点喷老李脸上。

老李 unscrewed the lid of the thermos and took a large sip of iced tea, the sound sharp in the evening air. "Guys, listen up. I'm going to need three volunteers. No pressure," he announced, stretching his arms wide like a teacher ready for an eager class.

The bell rang, signaling the end of a chaotic lunch hour. Most of the students were milling about, chatting and laughing. The cafeteria, usually noisy, was now a cacophony of noise and movement.

The teacher, Mrs. Johnson, clapped her hands together, and the students immediately fell silent. She was a tall, thin woman with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense attitude. She was known for her strict discipline and her ability to keep even the most rowdy class in line.

"Alright, settle down," she said, her voice firm but not unkind. "I need someone to help me with a project. It's important, and it requires a lot of responsibility."