“You’re an idiot.”
Harold cranked the windlass, lowering the cross-bar. “I’ve calculated the power and distance capable by this catapult correctly.”
Jerry squinted at the high fall air bag wavering in the distance. “I still don’t think you should try this.”
Harold climbed on the flat end of the lowered bar. “Just be ready to release when I tell you.”
“Ready?” Jerry nodded. “Fire!”
Jerry pushed the bar, the stored tension snapping the crossbar upward. Harold flew through the air, screaming until hitting the ground in front of the safety bag.
“You studied trebuchets, but this is an onager, idiot.”
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