Let us focus our attention on a small island off the Athenian coast. On this island, which has no port, no electricity, and no houses, there is a large hall known as "Olympiakeos Choreos kai Tragoydi" ("Olympic Dance and Song") which every night is filled with music and revelry. The Greeks on the mainland do not know who dances there, or how they get there, or where they go in the day -- fishermen who land on the island find only one resident at the hall, a caretaker names Apollo.
As an aside, the International Olympic Committee once sent a delegation to the island to have the hall change its name, as it infringed on the IOC's trademarks. Apollo politely declined, and when pushed, made pointed comments about the Olympic Torch, and how the IOC was having trouble getting it lit "by the grace of Apollo". Once the IOC did a little research into the place, they left in peace, never to raise the issue again -- at which point, the torch lit seemingly spontaneously.
On this particular night, as we look in, we see that a dance competition is in full swing -- Terpsichore is sitting in judgment, looking over the ready to dance, and Apollo, having put down his Lyre for the evening, is standing behind the turn-tables (having no electric service doesn't mean that the lights and music doesn't work. Zeus has had millenia of experience controlling and channeling his lightning bolts, after all).
"All right, all you Gods and Goddesses, let's get ready to party!" the DJ shouted out. "Tonight we're going to be jamming and dancing to the best hits of the Apollo Theater" Groans rose from the crowd, and Thaleia shouted "Leave the comedy routine to me", to the amusement of everyone.
Apollo started spinning the disco and soul hits while the couples danced on the floor. One by one, Terpsichore pointed out a dancer who didn't pass muster, and the floor emptied slowly out to the surrounding seats, as the dancers stayed to watch the remainder.
The dancing went on, and on -- stamina being something none of the dancers were lacking -- through the Disco Top 100, through the Abba Hour, through the Bee Gees, through Andy Gibb's entire discography, and still they danced on. Finally, six dancers remained; Hermes and Iris were jamming literally above the dancers and on the floor Pitys was teasing Pan around the floor in a never-ending, disco chase. The two remaining solo dancers were Bacchus (visiting from his vineyards in the north of Italy), resplendent in an outfit of pure white, only enhanced by the full glass of bright red wine he has carried and drunk from all evening -- never spilling a drop, never draining it completely, and Dione, dressed in a beautiful green dress, adorned with oak leaf prints.
.... There is more of this story ...