Las Vegas — The 10-foot-tall talking rooster is dead, wrapped in blue blankets and sprawled on the floor.
To replace him, hundreds of tropical butterflies are arriving in chilled FedEx envelopes. For two months, the insects will flutter above an oasis of flowers, quirky fountains and luminous rocks. Then, they too will be carted away.
It's standard procedure at Nevada's posh Bellagio hotel. Five times a year, the casino goes to extravagant lengths and expense (roughly $1 million a show) to transform the scenery inside its glass-roofed conservatory garden.
Over Christmas, the atrium was decked out with 500-pound ornaments hung from the rafters, giant polar bears made of white carnations, a frozen pond and foam that looked like snow cascading from the ceiling. To complete the theme, artificial pine scent was piped through the ventilation system.
The changing displays are a hit with locals and tourists (Southern Californians account for nearly 12 million visits to Las Vegas a year). And the outlandish props seem to be sparking a battle of one-upmanship along Las Vegas' Strip. Even within the Bellagio, there's new competition. A few steps from the conservatory, the hotel just installed the world's tallest chocolate fountain, a glass-encased contraption that pumps 2 tons of molten cocoa.
"Our challenge," says Stephen Stefanou, a member of the atrium's brain trust, "is to create a must-see destination for the jaded eyes of consumers who have seen everything."
It's a wild ride. "No one has any idea of the inner workings," he says.
Built in 1998, the Bellagio Conservatory is roomy enough to hold almost three basketball courts. For each makeover, a crew of 100 people spends six days -- working in shifts around the clock -- tearing down one landscape and building another.
Cranes pop up from catacombs beneath the floor to move heavy objects. Gardeners lug in more than 10,000 plants. And spectators gawk as workers hammer, drill, glue and paint.
The cast of characters behind the latest overhaul includes an ex-ventriloquist, a baron who served time for tax fraud, a team of scuba divers and a former hostage of Salvadoran guerrillas.
There's also Kraig Anderson, a bespectacled bug wrangler from Minnesota. His company, Spineless Wonders, is overseeing the conservatory's offbeat butterfly habitat.
