A man named Pearle Bixby Wait was trying to make a better cough syrup in 1897 when one of his experiment ended up as a ball of gelatin. He trademarked his product under the name

A man named Pearle Bixby Wait was trying to make a better cough syrup in 1897 when one of his experiments ended up as a ball of gelatin. He trademarked his product under the name Jell-O—not because it made any sense, but because it sounded catchy and, frankly, he was terrible at naming things.

At first, Jell-O was a total failure. People took one look at the wobbly, brightly colored substance and assumed it was either poisonous or alive. Sales were so bad that Pearle gave up and sold the brand to Orator Frank Woodward for a measly $450—which, in today’s money, is still an absolute robbery.

Woodward, unlike Pearle, had a brilliant marketing strategy. Instead of selling it like medicine, he started giving out free samples, showing off its ability to jiggle, wiggle, and make children scream in excitement. He even got door-to-door salesmen to convince housewives that Jell-O was the future—a futuristic, magical dessert that required zero effort and looked like a science experiment.

Before long, Jell-O became a national obsession. Kids loved it, parents trusted it, and dentists feared it (because, let's be honest, it’s basically a sugar suspension). By the 1920s, it was being called "America’s Most Famous Dessert," and by the 1950s, people were shoving everything from vegetables to meat into it, creating some of the most horrifying recipes ever seen in a cookbook.

To this day, nobody knows exactly what Jell-O is made of. We just know it tastes good, feels weird, and will outlive humanity itself.