Let Me Hear Your Big Boy Theft Stories

In our July issue, I wrote a little ditty about the time a couple of my high school buddies and I stole a Kip’s Big Boy. The story, tittled “Statute of Limitations,” isn’t part of our usual online offering, so you’ll have to deal with a PDF if you’d like to read it. Chris Croupe read it and sent along the following email. Please enjoy. And if you have something you, too, would like to get off your chest, the comments are open for your own personal Big Boy stories.

Your story brought back some memories. Our target was the Big Boy at Belt Line and 75. We pre-loosened the bolts and made sure we had a long-bed truck to handle the load. An ill-fitting tarp was also used to cover the cargo. The plan for the Big Boy was to use an intricate pulley system to get him to the top of Berkner High School and then fill him with cement, making him weigh close to 2 tons (we figured) and requiring significant heavy machinery. That plan did not come to pass. The Big Boy spent one night in my backyard and then made his way to a party where he spent the evening in a hot tub. Someone’s mom ratted us out to the Richardson PD. The Big Boy, it turns out, is valued at $6,000 and falls under the same laws as auto theft. Kip’s (or whoever the parent company is) had a guy whose whole job was driving around, looking for and dealing with stolen Big Boys. I think my mom ended up paying $900 or so to cover some damage done, and we moved on. (I didn’t rat out the others in my crew because snitches end up in ditches — or at least get stitches in suburbia.)

15 comments on “Let Me Hear Your Big Boy Theft Stories

  1. A FrontBurnervian asked via another channel whether a Ronald McDonald story would be appropriate for this forum. Absolutely. Let’s open it up to any form of restaurant-related statuary.

  2. After completing 6 months of hard time at McDonalds in my hometown of Amarillo, I decided that if they ever left the flags up at night I was going to score me a big red M flag for time served. The flag is still at my parents house somewhere. No where near as courageous as stealing Ron himself or a big boy, but a story none the less.

  3. When I was in High School some friends and I were busy drinking and came up with the brilliant idea to steal the giant American flag from a car dealership. I know not very American. We decided that two of us would do the deed while the other two kept lookout. I was in the lookout car. My buddies hurriedly pulled up and , surprisingly, were easily able to crank down the flag. We knew the flag was large but did not realize it was huge. The biggest flag I suppose money can by. I sat in the car and was dying laughing while watching these two idiots trying to stuff this enormous flag in their car. After wrestling with the flag for ten hilarious minutes they were able to get it in the car. They were exhausted and sweating profusely. We were ready to take off. Mission accomplished. We immediately realized that they could not fit in the car and even if they could driving would be impossible. The flag literally took up the whole car. We decided to get over there ad help. We took the flag back out and raised it back up. I am sure she is still flying high today. 25 years later.

  4. We had a similar experience with an enormous helium balloon flying over a car dealership. Same hooligans who were involved with the Big Boy heist. We liberated the balloon without thinking about its size or whether it would fit in the car. Of course it didn’t. Undeterred, we drove off, trailing the balloon behind us.

  5. When I lived in Tokyo, we kidnapped our local Col. Sanders one night. Brought him home, took porn shots with him. Woke up the next day, phone KFC and told them how he just appeared on our apartment landing and got 4 barrels of free chicken. Crime pays in Japan.

  6. Fortunately for Big Boy there were no Kips in NYC when I was pledging my freshman year at Columbia. There were McDonalds and the life-size Ronald McDonald sitting on the bench was on our scavenger hunt to-do list.
    My pledge class selected the McDonalds located next to Rockefeller Center due to the fact that we also needed to secure the Fiji country flag from a pole surrounding the skating rink. Keep in mind this was 20 years ago so way before 9/11.
    The plan was executed flawlessly. We dropped off 2 guys with a screwdriver and bolt cutter a block down from the McDonalds and 2 guys next to the flagpole around the corner. We drove the van to the other side of rink where we dropped a guy sans clothes to distract the Rockefeller Center guards if necessary. As soon as the van door opened we blared the horn to signal the other teams to begin the operation.
    Sure enough the naked pledge was spotted by security and he led them on a foot chase away from the operation to a pre-determined location where the van scooped him. The van then took off and picked up the guys with the flag and as we pulled up to the McDonalds our guys had almost had it off but couldn’t get the last bolt out,. 3 guys then jumped out of the van and successfully unhinged Ronald from the bench and we threw him in the van and sped off to the Upper West Side.
    But the fun didn’t stop there. We then went to work and drilled a hole in his lap (where his legs crossed there was a metal plate,) drilled a hole in the back of his head and through his mouth, put him on top of a trash can full of punch and stuck a sump pump in the trash can with the hose through the opening in the back of his head. This allowed for the greatness of the trash can punch to flow through his mouth. I must say that the Ronald McDonald fountain was a hit at our parties.

  7. From a reader who asked that I not use his name:

    —-

    “Writing this letter is probably a mistake. Many of the people involved in this heist are now honest and reputable members of the community. I do no wish to disparage their reputations or the reputations of our poor parents. My God, haven’t those people already suffered enough?

    “This story begins in north Dallas in 1989. We were seniors at the Episcopal School of Dallas. I do not remember much from that year, but I do recall that we enjoyed two activities more that any other – drinking beer and screwing with Harvey Goff. One wintry evening, we decided to combine our two favorite pastimes.

    “It was icy that evening. The wind was howling. School had already been canceled for the next day, and the slow-witted clerks at the Shell station at Northwest Hwy and Marsh Lane had reliably failed to ask for proof of age. We had a free night off, access to my Mother’s brown 1986 Volvo station wagon, and cases of cheap beer.

    “Many of us had our own individual stories of brief skirmishes with Harvey, but tonight we had the liquid courage to finally end this war. About seven of us piled into the Volvo and headed out to “borrow” letters from a half dozen church signs in the north Dallas area. We were not prejudiced. We stole letters off of most of the houses of worship.

    “Remember, Harvey’s restaurant had a sign out front that used removable letters to spell something along the lines of “Half priced Goff burgers – Tuesdays After 5p” and the drive thru had a wooden menu sign. We replaced the removable letters with something terrible, but I cannot recall exactly what it read, and we tied the wooden sign to the top of the Volvo. The whole caper took less than three minutes.

    “Now, seven underage drinkers with two cases of beer and three cases of empties and a stolen fast sign slowly crept through dark icy streets dropping off children back at their houses. I slowly parked in my driveway around midnight. The next morning I saw the sign in our garage. My father had either failed to see the sign or had seen it and concluded that it was best to not bring it up. I forgot what happened to the sign. I remember seeing it again at someone’s graduation party three months later, but then it disappeared.

    “Please, if you decide to print any part of this story, change my name and protect my identity. My parents still live in Dallas. My accomplices did not give me permission to retell this story. It would be fairly easy to link the culprits back to each other. I know the statue of limitation has come and gone, but Harvey is still alive, I think, and Harvey is still probably a little bit eccentric.

    “I have lost a lot of sleep through the years. One recurring nightmare is where Harvey is chasing me down Lover’s Lane throwing tomatoes at me. I can only imagine the pain you must have felt all these years. Maybe there is a support group that we could begin.”

  8. The Big Boy from the Lakewood Kip’s on Gaston (now Bank of America, its mid-century features covered) was a regular fixure every senior day at Woodrow Wilson High School in the 70s and 80s.

    One year an enterprising class listed the school for sale in a classified ad (remember those?): 50-room Lakewood gothic mansion for sale on a seven acre estate. Three stories, tall windows, carved Bedford limestone and Tennessee marble appointments. The largest dining room in Dallas with seven skylights, expansive library with carved oak paneling and leaded-glass bay windows, fallout shelter and rifle range in the basement. $175,000. That bargain price, even back then, generated many calls to the phone number featured in the ad, which was the main office of the school.

  9. You kids were just following a years old tradition. Four of us from Hillcrest High kidnapped the Big Boy at Hillcrest and North West Hwy. in 1964. One buddy had his fathers pick-up and we pulled if off while Kip’s was still open.
    We had no tarp, just a lot of beer. After driving to a couple of parties showing him off, we hid him in the garage of the guy with the truck. His father was not amused when he found him the next morning. We had to return Big Boy to his proper place by the entrance of Kip’s (a major HHS hangout) and apologize to management. The four of us were banned from Kip’s for six months

  10. I have it on good authority this was written not by Son of Sue, but Sue himself. Go Batfaces

  11. My family owned the Kips Chain – I would love to know more about the hijinks, stories, and if anyone knows if the BB is still in the Strait Lane house pool bottom? This car theft story makes me laugh!

  12. I also stole a “Big Boy”! This is hilarious! I was talking about my heist with some friends at work tonight and we started wondering if the Big Boy has any value today, I happen to know where it continues to live. I started googling it and came across this and several other stories. Until finding this site I thought me and my friends had done something original and epic! Now I see these things have been getting swiped since the 60′s!!

    My adventure occurred in Clarksburg, WV. The big boy we made off with was a little more hefty than what some others have described. It was solid Fiberglas on top and had metal legs and weighed close to about 300lbs. One foot was bolted to about a 2×2 concrete pad. We took a chain and wrapped it around his legs, waist, and arms several times and hooked him to the back of my Dads 1989 Dodge Ramcharger and let er rip. With almost no resistance the big boy started following us down the road minus one foot that was still attached to the pad and separated at the ankle. It was about 3 miles down a 4 lane highway to where we planned to stash it, it was 4am and this is a small town so we just drug it behind the truck. Surprisingly the Big Boy took very little damage from the ride. His metal butt took the grunt of the drag damage and produced a good bit of sparks. When he arrived at his final destination he was first barley hidden behind a really crappy bar dumpster. After a few days then he got moved to a spot at the top of a hill in a park The Big boy proved very difficult to hide and the heat was on. The small town community was in somewhat of an outrage that this had happened. So like a week and a half goes by and then they start a collection for a reward for information leading to the return of the big boy, rewards are bad news if you are a kid and you know several people know. We were in disaster mode at this point. We decided the best move was to bury the big boy. That is exactly what we did. Five guys one girl, all brought our own shovels from home and started digging! Because we wanted to be quick and efficient we even dug the hole in his exact shape as to not waste energy. After about an hour and a half the big boy was below ground in his final resting place, LOL. One of the involved parties still lives in the house where it is buried and I know for a fact it is still there! My idea now is to dig that bastard up take it back and reinstall it! I would also like to paint his eyes red like he is back from the dead. The part that would make it even more funny for him to be resurrected from the dead is that he has been missing for 19 years now and the Big Boy has been a Panera Bread for about the last 10 years, LOL. So if he reappeared there today I think that would be EPIC!! I am going to have to try to talk some of the original culprits into it!!