Residents of Hannover, Germany, are familiar with the 50-pound Leibniz Cookie that hangs over the entrance to the Bahlsen GmbH company offices, held aloft by a pair of strapping male bronzes. It didn’t take long for one of the employees to notice that the cookie was missing. Police later reported that witnesses saw two men dressed in dark clothing taking the metal confection in broad daylight. One of them climbed a ladder and dislodged the cookie, while the other stayed below to capture the heavy prize. Bahlsen, a family-owned company established in 1889, is one of the biggest baked goods producers in Germany and a major cookie exporter. Its trademark product — a rectangular butter cookie embossed with the Leibniz name — is as recognizable to Germans as the Oreo is to Americans. The company’s CEO, Werner Bahlsen, offered a $1,400 reward for any information leading to the cookie’s return. About a week later, the local newspaper, Hannoversche Allgemeine, received a ransom note with a picture of a blue-costumed monster pretending to eat the golden cookie. The note demanded that Bahlsen donate $1,000 to an animal shelter and cookies to children in a local hospital. The ransom note was signed “Cookie Monster.” The ransom terms were specific. The kidnapper wanted cookies, yes, "But the ones with milk chocolate, not the ones with dark chocolate and not the ones without chocolate," the kidnapper wrote. "Hopefully you love cookies as much as I do and will therefore want to be really generous. This is serious! Otherwise, it will be thrown in the trash can with Oscar, really!!!” The same day, the real Cookie Monster took to the official Sesame Street Twitter feed to deny any involvement in the cookie caper. About a month later, the cookie was returned, but police were never able to determine the identity of the perpetrators. In the end, the animal shelter got their donation and 52 organizations received 52,000 packs of cookies. The incident led to speculation that it was merely a clever publicity stunt, though it could never be proven.
Giant Gold Cookie Goes Missing and Sets Off Monster Investigation
Residents of Hannover, Germany, are familiar with the 50-pound Leibniz Cookie that hangs over the entrance to the Bahlsen GmbH company offices, held aloft by a pair of strapping male bronzes. It didn’t take long for one of the employees to notice that the cookie was missing. Police later reported that witnesses saw two men dressed in dark clothing taking the metal confection in broad daylight. One of them climbed a ladder and dislodged the cookie, while the other stayed below to capture the heavy prize. Bahlsen, a family-owned company established in 1889, is one of the biggest baked goods producers in Germany and a major cookie exporter. Its trademark product — a rectangular butter cookie embossed with the Leibniz name — is as recognizable to Germans as the Oreo is to Americans. The company’s CEO, Werner Bahlsen, offered a $1,400 reward for any information leading to the cookie’s return. About a week later, the local newspaper, Hannoversche Allgemeine, received a ransom note with a picture of a blue-costumed monster pretending to eat the golden cookie. The note demanded that Bahlsen donate $1,000 to an animal shelter and cookies to children in a local hospital. The ransom note was signed “Cookie Monster.” The ransom terms were specific. The kidnapper wanted cookies, yes, "But the ones with milk chocolate, not the ones with dark chocolate and not the ones without chocolate," the kidnapper wrote. "Hopefully you love cookies as much as I do and will therefore want to be really generous. This is serious! Otherwise, it will be thrown in the trash can with Oscar, really!!!” The same day, the real Cookie Monster took to the official Sesame Street Twitter feed to deny any involvement in the cookie caper. About a month later, the cookie was returned, but police were never able to determine the identity of the perpetrators. In the end, the animal shelter got their donation and 52 organizations received 52,000 packs of cookies. The incident led to speculation that it was merely a clever publicity stunt, though it could never be proven.