The ranks in the Club of Good Moods (CDGL) are slowly thinning out. It’s not just the odds that are reminiscent of the empty Olympic Stadium in Berlin, where three tourists got lost somewhere in the upper ring. No, the sun loungers by the pool no longer have to be unofficially reserved early in the morning with bath towels, as is the old German holiday tradition.
There are no more rush hours in the CDGL. And not only because Cora Schumacher no longer has to share a bed with Marc Terenzi, who has already been mobbed away by feminism decree, but because only five heroes of boredom are allowed to stay on the club premises. The grandiosely announced Sat.1 feel-good show for the whole family loses its nerves faster than Fynn Kliemann.
In the CDGL, the well-tried principle applies that many historians also denounce in real life: the winners write the stories. True to this motto, the winners of the weekly game have regularly been allowed to send one of the losers home in six breathtakingly long, but at least disturbingly contentless weeks as compensation.
Unlike the tear-sea-tested D-celebrity guild and its accompanying community of onlookers trash fans and ironic smug viewers are used to, all clubbers who have been kicked out seem more relieved than desperate after their involuntary farewell. In principle, only Robert Lewandowski has less desire to stay in his club than the inmates of the CDGL.
CDGL: The five friends on club vacation
The remaining five aspirants for the title “Club King”, according to the inventory list namely Cora Schumacher, Julian FM Stoeckel, Martin Semmelrogge, Theresia Fischer and Vanessa Mariposa, remain true to the contract and start the new week in the usual show euphoria.
Traditionally, it starts with the so-called boss game. The extremely popular promotion to club boss, which is always limited to seven days, is probably the most coveted asset in the CDGL cosmos. After all, the title protects against exmatriculation. If you’re the boss, you can do whatever you want and still not fly ramus. This is where the CDGL differs from the “Bild” newspaper.
As has happened far too often in the fortunately not very long history of the CDGL, the candidates for the fight for the chief deck chair have to squeeze into grotesque and (coincidentally?) much too tight costumes, in which one can even shower at the Cologne street carnival with a Kölsch shower Narrenbühne would be referred.
Jay Jay Stoeckel, the prima donna of Thailand’s all-inclusive disaster, worries that filigree movements on the field could be made even more difficult by the flooding water and reveals his secret remedy: “I wear a bathing suit underneath so my pussy doesn’t get wet. ” Would also be a great title for Mia Julia’s new album, but please don’t ask me how I even know who Mia Julia is. A big thank you to Sandra and Marc at this point.
Cora’s pee gate
What Vanessa Mariposa wears underneath remains largely unclear – but that doesn’t detract from her gazelle-like talent for professional wringing. She easily wins the sponge game and becomes club manager again. As in the previous week, Vanessa will not have to leave the club today. Far too early in the evening, her victory destroyed a lot of the hopes of hard-working commentators on Twitter, who tweeted their fingers sorely under the hashtag #cdgl.
Wringing amateur and swimming trunks model Julian FM Stoeckel only fits so mediocre into the match plan: “Now we have to be nice to the fitness aunt again, oh dear.” For Berlin’s best-known turban wearer, there is apparently hardly anything more unpleasant than exchanging niceties with the 1.64 meter tall Salzburger. At most, maybe a nationwide mascara ban.
Cora Schumacher looks even more upset. She is actually considered Germany’s wringer queen. It is rumored that she had already wrung out Ralf Schumacher to the last drop when Theresia and Vanessa were still walking around the Christmas tree with the drum. Still, she blunders when it matters. The truth is on the pitch, not in the toilet bowl, one might say. Because Cora has a plausible explanation for her failure: “I couldn’t concentrate because I always had to think that I had to pee.”
Annoying, especially since Cora reveals that she has often lost car races because of her bladder dilemma: “I had myself checked out, I’m a stress pisser, I’m always afraid of failure that I have to pee.” Before you write outraged letters to the editor about what “fears of failure” are supposed to be, why I use such crazy genders or constantly use words like “piss”, although children are also reading here: I’m a chronicler, I’m just quoting. I’m less to blame than Christian Lindner for the total flop of the tank discount. Cora confesses that the pee phobia runs through her life “like a red thread”. Or actually yes like a yellow thread, but we want to leave the Pampers in the village.
One Ring to rule them all
Here’s another Schumacher anecdote involving a “huge, ridiculously expensive diamond ring.” And somehow also about the Stanglwirt and Arnold Schwarzenegger. It only gets exciting again when Cora, Theresia and Vanessa get bogged down in secret collusion discussions. Which teams should weekly boss Vanessa put together for the decisive game in order to be able to keep the entire trio of women in the club if possible?
Different variants are played through, and in the end the stress pee summarizes: “There’s definitely going to be a bitch move. I don’t know if I still trust Theresia.” But the decision is not easy for Vanessa either: “It destroys my brain”. Many who regularly consume their Instagram stories say yes … oh never mind.
The trio’s agreement scenario with four functioning bubbles puts Tschühlijähn Äffe Ämme Schtoghähl (as the actual club cheerful person is called in Paris) in a pouty mood. After weeks of alliance with his fellow sufferers, he suddenly seems to have been excluded from the club of celebrity women and thus from the team selection agreements. Consequently, Jay Jay Stoeckel immediately grabs his long-legged ex-Gspusi Theresia and confronts her.
All against Theresa?
Theresia Fischer (not Helene Fischer’s sister, by the way) first tries to pretend to be clueless. Jay Jay Matlock, however, is the Ally McBeal of reality TV cross-examiners and doesn’t let Theresia get away: “You talked for hours! If I see on TV that you’re lying to me, I’ll block you on all channels, I swear”.
Julian FM Blocker, the man who unfriends faster than his shadow, is merciless. But Cora and Vanessa are also suddenly making anti-Theresia plans in the bathroom. In the free-for-all selection negotiation, no one can be sure. The only one who doesn’t seem to be interested in any team constellations is Martin Semmelrogge. Or maybe he just hasn’t really understood the rules of the game to this day. After a long evening full of speculation, agreements and proseccos, Jay Jay Stoeckel has more blood alcohol than confidence.
The next morning there is the big resolution. Vanessa opts for a “women against men” constellation and appoints Julian and Martin to Team Green and Theresia and Cora to Team Pink. In the end, Team Pink prevailed in a kind of water cannon bucket game. Theresia and Cora can therefore decide whether Julian or Martin has to leave the CDGL that same evening.
Martin can stay
As the first aide of the expulsion guillotine, Theresia enters the stage and decides that Martin can stay in the club. Immediately afterwards, Cora explains that Julian is both her sister and her brother. Almost her brother. Martin, on the other hand, is like her father. Family quarrels in the Schumacher household. Contrary to his absolute belief that Cora would lose face if she released him to leave, she decides that Martin should stay
1:1 between the losing opponents. In any case, one of the two has to go, so club boss Vanessa decides in accordance with the rules. Julian sees them as “greater competition” than Martin and kicks (scandalously!) the club’s diva whisperer Julian FM Stoeckel from the CDGL. Accordingly, next week’s final will take place without Berlin’s most well-known stage pig. This is of course poison for the already questionable rate.
I am currently in shock. I’ll have to reconsider whether I can bring myself to comment on a final without club animator Jay Jay Stoeckel next week. So maybe see you next week!
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