Meanwhile, in Frankfurt, Katarina Maier knocked at her bosses' door and shuffled in respectfully.
"Herr Schmidt, do you remember the business trip I am taking to America in a few days?"
"Of course, Katarina, the Calhoun City account. Do you have everything you need?"
She adjusted her glasses. "Well, Herr Schmidt, it seems there is some sort of music festival that week in Calhoun City. The hotels are fully booked, and very expensive."
"Music festival in that city?" Schmidt snorted. "That black music, I suppose! Not likely to hear any Mozart!" He composed himself. "I know someone in the city administration, maybe he can find you adequate accomdation."
"Thank you," Katarina replied, bowed deeply, and turned to leave.
"Oh, and Katarina?" Schmidt called. "For the good of the account, try to make an effort to go to their little show and be friendly to the locals. Not too friendly, mind you; I can only imagine what those animals would do to a pretty little blonde girl from Germany."
She blushed, but nodded obediently.
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