Head Wax

The discovery of head wax in humans is usually blamed on Dr. James Hedges, of Remington, South Carolina. 
His breakthrough research on goat farmers and middle management neurotics while looking for a cure for ear wax led him to posit that the human brain, under the right circumstances, will turn into a thick yellow wax that has a number of commercial applications.
After dozens of autopsies performed ten years ago, he was ready to go public with his findings, but was prohibited from publishing the results of his work by the American Medical Association, due to his frequently referring to their board of directors as 'knotheads.'
He did eventually publish his work in the Swedish magazine 'Veckans Vimmel.' But since the magazine caters to hedgehog enthusiasts, it was ignored by the mainstream media.

Then, in 2016, the wunderkind entrepreneur Rash Acton heard about Remington's work while attending a bar mitzvah in the New Hebrides, and immediately took action. He sent a crack team of professionals to Adelaide, Australia, which had just been designated as 'The Big Head Capital of the World' by the World Heritage Foundation, to begin exploratory excavations. They discovered head wax in such vast quantities among the suburbs of Adelaide that Acton feared the market for it would immediately collapse. He quickly pulled his team out of Adelaide and sent them to Bismarck, North Dakota, where there is no head wax to speak of. Cannily publishing the results of his Bismarck work, and suppressing the reports of a head wax bonanza in Australia, Acton created a booming demand for the product that drove prices sky high. 

But even Acton couldn't foresee that the Adelaide head wax fields would prove to be remarkably shallow.  And then, two years ago, thye gave out completely. A new field of head wax was needed to keep the entire industry going.

For by this time Acton had made sure that R & D had come up with enough uses for the product to make it indispensable for the average consumer. It replaced gasoline, lime juice, popcorn, nuclear fission, alligator pears, nylon, and aluminum. When heated to extreme temperatures it crystallized into toothpaste. Super-cooled, it became the ideal Lego block. And Acton made sure that everyone knew it is completely biodegradable, organic, and sucks ozone out of the air. Plus kittens love to play with it.

By a lucky coincidence, Acton was scheduled at a congressional hearing during the crisis, and one look at the heads of those distinguished legislators convinced him he had found the Spindletop of head wax. In no time at all he had cornered the head wax market on Capital Hill.
"What makes it so easy" he told reporters earlier this year, "is that nobody minds you digging around in their heads. Besides, the stuff just grows back again in a few months." 
Acton's competitors soon discovered that even minor clerks and time-serving bureaucrats in the DC area contained high levels of virgin head wax. Flourishing their mattocks and trowels, they have helped keep the price of head wax down to a reasonable level.
Today the head wax industry employs nearly a quarter million people; you can see the derricks and sump pumps all over the nation's capital, operating 24/7.
And as Rash Acton recently said, while boarding his private Beechcraft Turbo King, "Caramel don't grow on apples -- you gotta put it there!"