Sky Sports' Rob Dorsett talks us through his time behind the scenes at Leicester's Premier League title celebrations.
A three-tiered cake, all in blue. Two water melons, carved with the faces of Claudio Ranieri and Jamie Vardy. A stuffed fox, draped in a Leicester scarf.
These are some of the more outlandish gifts that I've seen delivered to the King Power Stadium in the last week, in recognition of the most unlikely Premier League Champions.
It has been a strange week. A bizarre season. Captain Wes Morgan reflected on just how surreal it has all been when we spoke at the club's training ground last week, the day after Spurs drew at Chelsea and that famous party at Jamie Vardy's house in Melton Mowbray.
At that party, Morgan was seen lying on his back, being dragged along the kitchen floor by Marcin Wasilewski. Now, the morning after the night before, Morgan looked stunned. He didn't know what to say, on or off camera.
"Rob, I can't believe it. Who'd have thought it?" When I reminded him that he would be the one lifting the Premier League trophy, he was silent for a moment. He then started laughing quietly.
I've known Morgan since he was 17, when he came through the academy at Nottingham Forest alongside the likes of Michael Dawson and Jermaine Jenas.
In truth, Dawson and Jenas were always seen as the more stellar talents at the City Ground, by academy staff and fans alike, but it is Morgan who has gone on to greatness: his character is stamped all over the Leicester City squad.
Strength of mind and body, honesty, resilience, determination. Morgan is the leader on the pitch and in the dressing room. If you want a message to get through to the players, you go through Wes. If there's a squad get-together to be sorted, Wes will sort it.
Frank Clark was the Nottingham Forest chairman who sold Morgan to Leicester in January 2012.
"I don't think Wes was appreciated enough by anyone at Nottingham Forest," he told me.
"The club had allowed him to get into the last year of his contract and he would have walked away for free in the summer. So in the end, we did well to persuade Leicester to pay £1m for him.
"But I don't think anyone realised what a force, what a character Forest were losing."
Now, that "force" is standing alone on the side of the training pitch, clutching a bottle of water, speechless. Overcome with emotion.
It was an amazing feeling at Leicester's training ground last Tuesday. The club had kept a dozen or more camera crews and scores of reporters outside - we were the only live crew to be invited in.
I was so busy chatting to the players that Leicester's head of media, Anthony Herlihy, had to prompt me to do the big interview of the day.
"Don't you want to interview the manager?" he asked. Claudio Ranieri had been waiting a few metres away for a couple of minutes, apparently. By that time, we had already done Danny Drinkwater live to Sky Sports Now, and Morgan too.
I had just grabbed a few words with Ranieri in a huge scrum at the main gate, where several Italian broadcasters were literally fighting with each other to get their camera near to Ranieri's drivers-side window.
I managed to get my microphone under his chin, but as his car was surrounded, my cameraman Chris Alcock could not get a clean shot. So he made the inspired decision to go in front of the bonnet - this served the dual purpose of providing a clean shot of Leicester's manager through the windscreen - and prevented him from driving away. Genius.
We got a few answers from him - and so did the Italians - before he inched forward and forced his car through the gates and into the sanctuary.
Moments later, Leicester's team chef, Gary Payne, arrived with a tray full of bacon sandwiches and coffee for us, as he has done so many times before. It exemplifies the friendly, genuine way in which Leicester is run. It was Gary's way of making sure we, at Sky, were made to feel part of the party. This time, though, it seemed only right we share with our Italian counterparts and the feast was gone in seconds.
Now pitchside, Ranieri and I had all the time and space to chat freely.
He was the same as ever: smiling, calm, charismatic - taking it all in his stride.
Yes, he admitted, this achievement had vindicated his own, deep-held belief that he would one day win a top division title. Yes, it was a special feeling. But, typically modest, he gave all the credit to his players.
Those players were now in the middle of a "training session", killing time while waiting for the club's Thai owners to arrive in their personal helicopter so that they could start the official Premier League photoshoot.
In truth, at this stage, the players were like kids playing on the local park. Nathan Dyer went in nets, while Vardy and Robert Huth rained shots at him. The diminutive Dyer then pulled off a brilliant flying save, high to his right, and went on a lap of honour before being tripped by Marc Albrighton and dived upon by his teammates.
We heard a low rumble overhead that announced the impending arrival of the owners, Vichai and Aiyawatt Srivaddhanaprabha.
The pitch had been cleared for the owners' entourage to arrive, all smiles and glamour. As the group of 20 or so made their way to the lower pitch, Leicester's club photographer, Neil Plumb, was trying to organise the players into a group ready for the team photo. While he was doing so, Wasilewski and Jamie Vardy managed to nutmeg him three times with a water bottle.
He never noticed, but the Sky Sports News pictures became something of a cult internet hit thereafter.
As they unfurled the "Champions" banners, and started chanting, I was again live in the background, offering a commentary. The Thai entourage closed in, camera phones primed and ready, and I had to politely ask them to move slightly to the side so that our camera could still capture the moment. With a polite nod of the head, they moved a few feet to the left and we got some great shots.
Those pictures inside Jamie Vardy's front room, as the squad crowded together to watch the moment when they were guaranteed top spot.
The players, led by Morgan, obviously, were determined to keep the party private. They wanted it to be an occasion for them, together, alone. Finally, they agreed to allow a single club camera in to film them, if the moment arrived as they hoped.
When it did, and Eden Hazard scored the equaliser against Spurs, we needed to get the extraordinary images onto Monday Night Football as quickly as possible. The trouble was, I was outside the front of Vardy's house, along with several hundred elated Leicester fans.
The only solution was to get Leicester's cameraman who filmed them, Sam Chambers, to scale a low wall to the side of the property, and hand his camera over while two police officers gave us cover, just feet from the jubilant supporters. It is still a huge relief that we managed to do that, without the fans realising.
After the players left the training ground, to head into town for a meal with the owners and staff, we headed to the stadium, in a journey that took 45 minutes instead of the usual 10.
It was chaos. All car horns and flags, smiles and chants. I remember doing the most eclectic and unlikely live report at the King Power Stadium later that day. Again, the club allowed us exclusive access to go pitchside, while outside the world's media had descended.
I bumped into Kasabian bass player Chris Edwards, who was checking out the layout of the stadium before the band play there later this month. Just behind him was Leicester fan Mark Selby, who the night before had won his second World Snooker Championship. It was that sort of day.
I'd already booked the de Montfort Gospel Choir to perform for us, but could not let this opportunity slip. So, we went live to Sky Sports News with a rock star, a World Snooker Champion and a gospel choir. It kind of worked.
There have been so many wonderful moments that I have been lucky enough to experience this season, from being close to this story, and to Ranieri and his group of players.
Seven years ago, the club was in League One. Now, they are the Premier League champions.
Leicester's sensational season will live long in the memory.