Hoopty

Before Red Bull had F1 trophies lining its shelves or BASE jumpers hurling themselves from stratospheric balloons, it had Mini Coopers with giant cans strapped to the back, prowling college campuses and skateparks like sugar-caffeinated sharks. This is the story of the Red Bull Mini: a rolling billboard, a cold-can delivery system, and one of the strangest and most brilliant guerilla marketing campaigns the automotive world has ever seen.

From Austrian Chemistry Project to Worldwide Wing Spreader

Red Bull started as a Thai energy drink called Krating Daeng. It was sold mostly to truckers and factory workers looking to survive night shifts in Bangkok. Austrian entrepreneur Dietrich Mateschitz discovered it while on a business trip in the ‘80s. By 1987, he’d co-founded Red Bull GmbH with Thai partner Chaleo Yoovidhya, tweaked the formula to Western palates, and launched it in Austria.

But nobody knew what an “energy drink” was. Red Bull didn’t just need customers—it needed believers. That’s where the Minis came in.

Enter the Red Bull Mobile Fleet

The company created what became known internally as the “Wings Team” program: squads of attractive, enthusiastic college students (mostly women, let’s be honest) armed with cold cans, free merch, and a fleet of heavily modified Mini Coopers. These weren’t just regular Minis—they had a custom fiberglass Red Bull can bursting out of the back like some kind of caffeinated weapon. In place of the back seats? A refrigerated cooler packed with Red Bull, baby.

The cars were small enough to sneak into tight campus parking lots and absurd enough to make people stop mid-conversation. They were whimsical, mobile, and impossible to ignore. Red Bull wasn’t just giving you a drink; it was pulling up next to your econ lecture and delivering it with a wink and a winged logo.

Quirks, Features, and Mayhem

First off, yes—those giant cans are real. And yes, people do try to steal them.

The Mini Coopers (mostly R50 and R53 hardtop models) were converted by specialized body shops commissioned by Red Bull’s U.S. marketing team. Underneath the fiberglass can sat a steel support structure bolted into the car’s frame. The refrigeration unit was powered either by the car’s alternator or a separate battery system depending on the version. Some of them had aftermarket roof hatches so the Wings Team could stand up and hurl drinks into crowds like parade candy.

The cars were manual transmission, and Red Bull actually taught their reps to drive stick if they didn’t already know. Combine that with the fact that most of these drivers were 19-year-olds running on two hours of sleep and unlimited taurine, and you get some truly chaotic road trip stories.

What Happens When the Wings Fall Off?

Here’s where things get weirder: Red Bull doesn’t just junk these cars. Once they’re decommissioned, some get auctioned off, some go to museums, and a rare few end up in private hands. Every few years, one pops up on Craigslist or Facebook Marketplace, often with disclaimers like “refrigerator does not work” and “can may cause HOA complaints.”

In 2019, one was listed for sale in Florida for $6,500. It had 115,000 miles and a fading wrap but came with a working cooler and “enough curb appeal to get you banned from three homeowner’s associations.” Others have appeared at Radwood and become Instagram legends.

Some owners repurpose them for new causes. A famous conversion includes a Red Bull Mini turned into a rolling coffee bar in Austin, Texas, with the giant can repainted to say “Cold Brew.”

More Than Just a Gimmick

The Red Bull Minis are a relic of a time when brand activation meant physically showing up and handing someone a cold can with a smile—not just serving them a targeted ad mid-scroll. They were obnoxious, absurd, and wildly effective.

Before Red Bull had Max Verstappen racking up world titles or Felix Baumgartner falling from orbit, it had little Minis rolling up to parking lots, blasting Eurotrash music, and saying, “Hey, you look tired. Want wings?”

Turns out, people did.