It's just past 2am on one of those "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" Saturday nights, and a capacity crowd of more than 3,000 revellers inside the Strip's epically proportioned nightclub Hakkasan Las Vegas are tripping the light fantastic. To the pummelling oontz-oontz-oontz of electro bass, they are dancing and drinking with hedonistic abandon when Steve Aoki decides it's time for cake. A live wire in skinny jeans, the DJ leaps from behind his turntables to a narrow ledge ringing the DJ booth, holding a vanilla-frosted layer cake the size of a small boogie board. Between signs bearing the messages "Please cake me" and "I need the cake", Aoki spots his quarry: a grinning...
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