In 1998, a toy inventor named Joe Pellettieri was sitting in his New Jersey workshop when inspiration struck in the form of a rubber fish mounted on a wooden plaque. What if it sang? What if it turned its head and flopped its tail while belting out "Take Me to the River"? The world didn't know it needed this, but oh, it absolutely did. Big Mouth Billy Bass was about to become the most gloriously unnecessary phenomenon of the early 2000s.

The origins of Billy are charmingly low-tech. Pellettieri, who'd previously created other novelty items, partnered with Gemmy Industries to bring his vision to life. When Billy debuted at a toy fair in 1999, retailers were skeptical at best. A motion-activated fish that sang when you walked past? It seemed destined for the bargain bin. But something magical happened when the fish hit store shelves in late 1999: people went absolutely nuts for it. By 2000, you couldn't escape Billy Bass. He was in dental offices, college dorms, and somehow, inexplicably, hanging in millions of American homes.

What made Billy Bass transcend mere novelty was his perfect storm of annoying charm. The fish originally sang two songs: "Take Me to the River" by Al Green and "Don't Worry, Be Happy" by Bobby McFerrin. His rubber lips moved (sort of) in sync with the words, his tail wagged with mechanical enthusiasm, and his head turned toward unsuspecting victims with the determination of a animatronic prophet. He was simultaneously the best and worst gift you could give someone. Your dad would put him in the garage. Your uncle would mount him above the TV. Everyone thought they were hilarious for owning one, even as their families silently plotted Billy's demise.

The cultural impact was surprisingly deep for a singing fish. Billy appeared in "The Sopranos" in a scene that became oddly iconic—Tony Soprano's crew using one to lighten the mood became a weird meta-commentary on American kitsch. The fish showed up in countless movies and TV shows, always as shorthand for "tacky dad humor." Even decades later, Billy experienced a renaissance when hackers discovered you could reprogram him with Amazon Alexa, turning the vintage novelty into a bizarre smart home device.

Here's the kicker: Gemmy Industries sold approximately 20 million Billy Bass units in the first few years alone. Twenty. Million. That's more than some legitimately useful inventions. The fish that everyone loved to hate (or hated to love) earned over $100 million and spawned countless imitators—singing lobsters, caroling reindeer, you name it. Billy Bass proved that sometimes the daftest inventions aren't just successful; they become part of our cultural DNA, lurking in our collective memory like a motion-activated fish waiting to sing.