Nearby the Jell-O box pyramids and just out of range of the flying whiffle golf balls that pass near the kitchen of senior Adam Boorstein’s off-campus rental, sits a stinky, lonely, gallon-sized jar of grease.

For more than a year, that grease container, formerly a restaurant-sized pickle jar, sat near the stove, its owners slowly filling its belly with goopy cooking residue until it was oozing with the gelatinous, oily remains of a college diet. And all that time, its keepers were oblivious of the fact that they were sitting on an absolute gold mine. Imagine their ignorance.

But Boorstein and his four other roommates, being the tech-saavy college students they are, decided that instead of throwing the yellowish layers of bottled grease away, why not see if there was an Internet market for it? There was. Two weeks ago, the jar sold on eBay for a whopping $305. And the jar has even raked in almost $400 from a website where people sympathetic to poor college students can wire money.

About $700. For a jar of grease.

“People try to sell crap on eBay all the time,” sophomore international business major Miles Lamborne, who came up with the idea to auction the jar, said. “I was expecting one of my family members to feel sorry for me and buy it.”

But in a world where people sell on eBay everything from toast resembling the image of the Virgin Mary to their own virginity, perhaps Lamborne’s idea wasn’t so crazy. The first bid the jar received was for $1.99, but within days, the bids shot up into the hundreds.

Surprising as the bids were, however, the real kicker is that not only did the jar sell for $305, but the roommates got to keep the jar – and the money. With the funds already in their Paypal account, the winning bidder told the men they should keep the jar and advertise it better to make even more money.

“Keep it, remarket it, because I think it can really sell. I think there’s a market to give to college kids who don’t have any money,” Lamborne said the winning bidder told them when he transferred the funds on Paypal.

They took the winning bidder’s advice. Thegreasejar.com is generating a steady stream of mostly anonymous donations. One donator sent $5 after searching for the university on Google and praised the student’s “ingenuity and humor.” The roommates have plans to promote their slimy creation through a line of T-shirts and glass mugs. A live webcam allowing viewers to monitor the filling of subsequent grease jars is forthcoming.

“I hope to make it more of a following than just selling it on eBay,” Lamborne said. “We actually had a girl offer to dance in a Grease Jar T-shirt and underwear.”

The idea sprung from the cooking novices unwittingly pouring grease into plastic cups and watching as the cups melted away. Much of the jar’s grease is generated by a culinary specialty of Boorstein’s: six-pound meat loaves, which helped the jar grow into a bubbling orange and brown conversation starter.

“I never asked any questions, I just used it,” said Lamborne, who did not know he would be sharing a house with a grease jar when he went room searching before the fall semester.

Lamborne and his crew have even begun sending Facebook messages advertising a contest aimed at art history majors who they want to come up with the most creative critique of the grease jar as a piece of modern art. The winner of the contest, which ends a week from today, gets $25 and a free T-shirt.

While the cash flow means its owners can replace their whiffle golf balls with real ones and can now invest in more Jell-O wrestling parties (a regular spectacle at the Grease Jar residence), to some, the jar’s monetary success will never surpass its most unusual legacy.

“I have left the university a glass of grease,” Boorstein said.

Contact reporter Owen Praskievicz at praskieviczdbk@gmail.com.