One of the best things that comes with the job of being Bacchus is the close association with a fine assortment of woodland nymphs. What’s not to like about lovely women whose favorite pastime is frolicking nude in the forest, and who are (by virtue of their assigned role in the extremely traditional mythos) properly observant of the prerogatives of the god of wine and wild partying?

Ok, daydream over, everybody get back on your heads.