A skirt

It was a skirt. A small skirt. A skirt so small Diana doubted that she could put it around her waist, much less keep it on.

"Don't you have anything larger?" she said, already resigned to the fact that she was not going to get a top. Not from Persephone anyway.

"Hey, don't be picky," said the queen of the underworld. "This skirt was good enough for a Cretan bull-dancer. It should be good enough for you."

"But it's so small."

"Well, those bull-dancers didn't have a lot of use for extra fabric, you know," said Persephone. "After all, they worked with bulls and you know how bulls are about flapping fabrics. The less those dancers wore, the safer they were. Plus a lot of them were young. And thin. And athletic. Boy, were they athletic."

"Well, I'm not a Cretan bull-dancer," said Diana.

"I know," said Persephone. "But right now this is the only extra piece of clothing I have."

Diana suspected the queen of the underworld was lying -- in fact, she knew Persephone was lying -- but there was nothing she could do about it. Besides, she thought, any piece of clothing she had was better than none.

So she reluctantly reached for it, only to feel it get snatched out of her hands before she could put it on.

"Hey!" Diana yelled.

"Don't look at me," said Persephone. "It was not me who took that skirt. It was that thing right behind you."

At that point, Diana turned around and saw something she did not expect to see.