Gently, Evelyn dipped a cotton swab into the self-tanner vial, Nuance "Dark Fozziebär," and let the paint dry briefly. Tomorrow she would board the plane to Australia, in a few days she would really be sitting in the jungle camp, and so she went one last time through her corpse-sized, corrugated, correspondence-learning correspondence course from the Klimbim Institute for Fake Stupid Beasts.

"The world is a globe and it's spinning," she whistled in that perpetually astonished, slightly breathless doodle-rabbit tone that she had trained on in grueling webinars over the past few weeks, always slightly varying the emphasis and the slight fooling of the tune End of sentence: "The world is a WORLD globular and it is spinning! The world is a globe and the TURN!" Only five minutes Augenkullernben, just as a precaution, she knew that the Klimperblick sat long ago.

Then the color was ready for the job, she dabbed a few freckles on her face with the brown-soaked stick, made sure they did not smear, and rehearsed the story of how she had already tried the freckles with the eraser wegzuradieren.

Evelyn sighed. It would be hard not to fall out of the painful role for two weeks. Of course she would miss her books. Proust, her beloved Proust! How should that work? Two weeks without her long, cozy reading evenings in the wingback chair, Brahms Scherzo in E flat minor strumming in the background, the Deleuze handset at hand, a well-tempered Tempranillo in the glass. "The most dangerous kind of stupidity is a sharp mind", she quoted Hugo von Hofmannsthal quietly for herself , then the freckles had dried.

This happened on Day 10 : Evelyn argued about her "malformation," spreading her plans to work as a speculator "in the stock market with helmet and headphones on Wall Street," and "nourish it with a clear-cut" Swing into overacting on the faintest suspicion: So much bawdy stupidity can not be real (or is it?).

All campers need to get together for the gladiator jungle test, where we see Felix and Gisele in the most innocuous challenge EVER (and all those who will hopefully not come): An eagle must land on their gloved hands, much wow.

photo gallery


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Photo gallery: So ran day 10 in the camp

The obligatory letters from home are read out and turn the candidates into melancholy tear-animals - Peter wins high with the salutation "dear Struppi" and the salutation "your Krocki". Tommi is voted out, but the really sad scenes, which go to the heart of anyone who has not yet cured them in too much trash, supplies Sibylle, who had to leave the camp yesterday, on her return to life. "I knew better that you do not get a second chance when you land where I landed," she says sadly and shatters in the car. And you sincerely wish that her manager Helmut Werner (that Austrian Knabmann, who already hoisted Gina-Lisa and Joey into the jungle camp) is serious when he says to her when she meets her again: "Ois is good, good."