Even Steve-O might have thought twice before swallowing a live catfish. Unlike the harmless goldfish, Corydoras aeneus, also known as the “Cory” catfish, is armored with strong, overlapping scales. And it shares a famous defense mechanism with almost all of its catfish cousins: spinelike barbs embedded within each fin. When the fish is distressed, these barbs straighten and lock into place, turning the animal from a tropical pet into a sort of aquatic shuriken.

When the man arrived at the hospital, all he was able to tell doctors through the drugs and alcohol was that he was having trouble swallowing, according to Linda Benoist, the Erasmus otorhinolaryngology resident who treated him. It wasn’t until the doctors spotted a fin in his throat that he could recall more specifically what had happened.

This is far from the first time someone has swallowed a live fish. What’s rare is for it to turn into a medical emergency: A recent study found 75 recorded cases of live-fish aspiration over the past several centuries, only four of which were voluntary. But those reports only account for failed attempts to down live fish. The practice has been a go-to gag for American goofballs and pranksters for decades. As panty raids, planking, and eating Tide Pods have come and gone, fish swallowing has remained—usually in the form of goldfish, and sometimes minnows or other teeny-tiny species.

The father of modern goldfish swallowing, the lore goes, was—perhaps unsurprisingly—an 18-year-old college student. In 1939, Lothrop Withington Jr., a freshman at Harvard, reportedly prompted a friend to issue him the challenge alongside a $10 payout. The stunt was considered so outlandish at the time that the crowd that showed up to watch the spectacle contained multiple reporters. By all accounts, Withington chewed.

As The Harvard Crimson later recounted, Withington’s bold challenge quickly caught on. A Harvard sophomore won local notoriety—and job offers from multiple circuses—that same year after swallowing 23 goldfish in just 10 minutes. Soon students at other schools were vying to break the record, and the Intercollegiate Goldfish Gulping Association (IGGA) was established to determine and enforce competition standards. There were only two rules: first, that each fish measured three inches long, and second, that the fish be kept down for at least 12 hours after consumption. Challengers emerged from campuses far and wide, until the last title on record went to Clark University’s Joseph Deliberto, who sucked down 89.

The height of the craze (and the IGGA) lasted only for the school year, but fish swallowing has never really gone away. Pushback from animal-rescue groups led most colleges to outlaw the practice in the early 1940s, which likely helped fuel the rise of goldfish gulping as a fixture of collegiate hazing rituals. It’s now regularly listed as an offense on lawsuits and sanctions brought against fraternities and sports teams. In addition to Jackass’s rendition, the practice has popped up in at least three major films spanning four decades: A Fish Called Wanda, The Wolf of Wall Street, and, most recently, Aquaman. YouTube is full of videos of people of all ages throwing guppies down their gullets.