Denny and Wheezer are juniors at Oxford University. During studies of ancient history, they take a liking to medieval siege machines such as the trebuchet.

The boys read that the trebuchet vaults a missile using a counter-weight. Using drawings from the library, they build a trebuchet. Wheezer suggests using an empty oil drum partially filled with water as a payload for a test-firing. Everything looks fine. At launch time the drum flies straight up in the air and comes back down directly on top of the trebuchet — demolishing the machine.

Back to the drawing board. Through research, the boys discover such terms as "centripetal acceleration" which must be calculated with a 20 digit figure. "Did the ancients have slide rules?" the boys must have mused.

A trebuchet of the 1200s was capable of launching a missile 500 to 600 yards. Denny and Wheezer are willing to settle for something like 50 to 100 yards.

After a successful test, the boys are ready for a serious launch. They build a rope safety net at the target point.

Now they’re ready!

Wheezer volunteers to be first. He places himself in the missile pocket and — WOOSH — Wheezer is launched more than half the length of a football field. He lands nearly dead-center in the net. He gets a few rope burns, but nothing serious.

Adjustments are made and Denny volunteers for the second launch. He lands dead center. The boys are ecstatic!

Then from the watching crowd of students comes Freddie yelling, "Let me, let me!" Quickly, Freddie is loaded into the missile pocket. The counterweight is triggered and Freddie is vaulted skyward. But he misses the net by a full six feet.

"It was like falling from a six-story building," an investigator later said.

Freddie died six hours after the debacle, which prompted authorities to file charges in Queen’s Court of "gross negligence resulting in a death."

No word, yet, about the outcome.