Parts of The Cake, and some cold sodas, were still available at the Last Dance Trading Session, to which I returned on Saturday night (after dinner with my cousin). Until the South Point staff came in and unceremoniously wheeled everything out. "We have to take everything out now! My staff doesn't work any longer tonight!" said the Mistress of Hospitality. She did allow us to take the cake with us if we chose, but . . . ummm, I saw the folly of trying to fold it up and put it into my chipcase. The South Point folks had a good snack on it, I presume, or maybe they fed it all to Benny's Hungry Horse downstairs.