The beginning of the latest episode “The Lion’s Den” is made by the app “Freemom”. The offer is very special – because it is a job platform for self-employed mothers, which is intended to bring companies and potential employees together. The founders promise: “If all mothers in Germany could work the way they say they would like to, we would have 840,000 more workers in one fell swoop.” For 800,000 supposedly available jobs, mind you.

But the approach is commendable – because just because a woman has become a mother doesn’t mean that the specialist knowledge is suddenly gone. So you can use “Freemom” to indicate when you are available in which area of ​​responsibility and offer your expertise for sale on an independent basis. The money for the founders should come from the companies looking for strength on the platform. Premium accounts and a learning platform are also planned. New lioness Tijen Onaran is leading the charge – because she claims to understand a lot about this market. Self-praise, which will be repeated several times later.

Unsurprisingly, the product-focused lions log off very quickly. 250,000 euros for 15 percent is also really no small matter. Only Onaran remains. “We would be perfect match,” she begins her plea. Then the big but: “I bring you so much reach, so much visibility, so many accesses,” she enthuses, “there would be 15 percent too less”. The offer: it has to be 30 percent. After an admittedly weak game of poker by the founders, the gavel falls at 28 percent.

Then it gets “cool” – because it’s about ice cream. The Italian founder of “Bello Eis” wants to convince the big cats to give him 100,000 euros for 15 percent of his company. He also needs help getting his ice cream on retail refrigerated shelves. Ironically, the master of the shelves, Ralf Dümmel, is missing from this pitch.

Dagmar Wöhrl steps in. “Always animals,” she says – and as a reward, she can feed Newfoundland Fly with the ice cream. Unsurprisingly, he likes it and mushes everything. But does the ice cream also appeal to the lions? In any case, the price is high: 3.50 euros are due per sundae – and it’s not more than one scoop.

But Janna Ensthaler gets to the point: When it comes to pets, people pay less attention to money if they don’t have to. Nevertheless, she gets out because she thinks that the company doesn’t need a lion and can grow slowly. For similar reasons, the other investors signed off – the deal left the lions cold in the end.

The next founding couple rolls up with their bright yellow bus. With “Millis magic towels” diaper rash should be a thing of the past. These are wipes that parents can put in a diaper. This is to prevent inflammation from forming in the diaper area and causing pain to the child. 80,000 euros for 20 percent of the company are in the room.

For some reason, a human in a dragon suit is bringing the rehearsals. The lions are initially impressed, negotiations begin. What the founders want above all is marketing – they want to make the brand better known. The five lions are silent. “What’s happening here shouldn’t unsettle you,” explains Nils Glagau. The silence means great interest, he says.

Dümmel submits: “You are absolutely amazing.” It’s also a shelf product, so it fits. The giant buck on “Milli’s magic towels” expresses itself in the right deal. 80,000 for 20 percent – Ralf’s enough. Dagmar Woehrl too. second deal.

Then Glagau demands that the new lions make their offer. The spirits he called: Onaran downplays the strategy of Wöhrl and Dümmel, sees the “greatest need” of the founders in building a brand and finding a face for the product. A strong community is what “Milli’s magic towels” urgently need. “I can make brands, I’m one myself,” she says. Cut to Glagau, he looks visibly annoyed towards the studio wall. What has he done?

Onaran is in the tunnel: she tells how successful her lipstick was. She just knows how it works, she says. “You need a community right now. That’s the most important thing. And if there’s one that can do it, then it’s me.” She doesn’t want to change anything about the deal, she also offers what is required.

Tillman Schulz puts the focus back on retail and wants to too. Same offer. Then Glagau, who also goes into the deal. His strategy is to focus on medicine – and that’s how he wins. Deal.

With the next deal, the founders want to reach the techies among the lions. “Klangio” is an artificial intelligence that can convert music played into notes. This should help when composing new pieces. However, the technology is expensive: the founders demand 300,000 euros for ten percent.

Apart from the fact that the lioness Ensthaler turns out to be a talent on the instrument and Onaran masters the flea waltz, the negotiations are rather quiet. Because of the “one million customers” that Maschmeyer revealed shortly afterwards as “prospects” because they didn’t pay, only 1,300 people booked the Klangio subscription. Maschmeyer and Glagau are not convinced of the quota. The latter then logs off directly.

The annual sales figures are getting better to a certain extent. First 38,000 euros, then 48,000 euros, then 85,000 euros. Generated by eight people, who are paid a total of 16,000 euros a month. blank looks. Only Maschmeyer dares and throws on the mental abacus. “That won’t work,” he calculates. The exit follows, he does not like.

The sweat is gradually reflected on the heads of the founders. It’s getting tight. Ensthaler also gets out, Wöhrl follows. One last attempt: “We’re looking for a lioness to help us. The ten percent is a basis for negotiation!” interjects one of the founders. Onaran nods. “I think you need someone like me who knows branding from the FF,” she announces in the well-known humble way. The buzzword “community” comes up again, but this time it even fits. “I believe in it,” she fuels the hopes of the founders, whose deal is hanging by a thread. Then she cuts him – no deal, she lacks the affinity. With soft tones you say goodbye.

Finally, it is about hygiene pads for toilet brush holders. For 80,000 euros there is 25 percent of the company. “This is a problem that really everyone knows,” reports the founder. Dripping toilet brushes, disgusting water, nasty stains. The description is really nothing for the pizza on the couch. Glad the deal is finally coming.

The so-called “Dripoff” pad collects the water in the toilet brush holder and binds the dirt. Actually very clever. Dümmel confirms that the toilet brush market is very large. The founder asks, “So who wants to invest?” Oddly enough, no one yells “here”.

Ensthaler wants to take a look at the pad and test it first. The lions make a pilgrimage through the room with their toilet brushes – if you came along spontaneously, you would at least be amazed.

Unfortunately, the numbers are looking very bad. The young company can show a turnover of 220 euros. This corresponds to a lunch including wine for the investors. Wöhrl and Ensthaler signed off, sometimes out of interest, sometimes for reasons of sustainability.

Glagau also logs off. Briefly, Tillman Schulz hopes that his company could really get this company going. Shortly afterwards the Downer: He doesn’t want to either. The lions’ self-praise in this episode is almost intrusive.

The star tested the “Dripoff” pads. Clean thing or reach into the toilet? Click here for the article.

It remains Ralf Dümmel. The hope. The junk emperor. Mr Regal. He wants to get to the packaging, but feels like it. He offers 80,000 euros and wants 33 percent. Surcharge, the deal is made. “Dripoff” pads will soon be on your supermarket shelves. Hopefully with less plastic.

Note on transparency: Like Vox, Stern is part of RTL Germany

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