Oh, and it turned out I was right and we were totally in Historical Downtown Sexsmith where I said we were and not Somewhere Else You Idiot, because I agreed to let Mrs Stevie drive back there the day before the wedding and she ended up exactly where we had been days before after following signposts (the last refuge of the directionally desperate in my opinion) to it.
It was here I was quite badly injured when I laughed so hard I inadvertently tripped the door mechanism and fell out of the Ford Leviathan Supa-Kab Turbo-X, whereupon Mrs Stevie accidentally ran me over.
Luckily I remembered that our Ford Leviathan Supa-Kab Turbo-X was Bear-Rated and rolled myself between the wheels, thereby avoiding a nasty squishing by quick-thinking, but I was temporarily deafened by the roar of the exhaust as it passed over me and the radiated heat from the muffler set fire to my chest hair.
So much for Historical Downtown Sexsmith.
Of course, this victory was offset quite a bit when Mrs Stevie walked into our downstairs bathroom upon our return to Chateau Stevie and discovered the cell phone I lost in JFK Airport at the start of this saga lying by the sink.
Such are the swings and kicks in the nuts of fate.