Friday Flash: Interstellar Feller: In Which Pepito Plies His Trade

Sonneteer's note: this is the latest installment of an on-going sonnet serial, Pepito Mojito: The Interstellar Feller. New readers can get up to speed by clicking on the "Interstellar Feller" tag below to bring up all installments. Start at the bottom and read your way up to today's...

Meanwhile, Pepito has been carried off
To points unknown by angry, martial men.
He signals his discomfort with a cough,
But finds himself ignored till at last when
His captors dump him at their lady's feet
(You knew there'd be another), who inquires
As to just who he is. Alas, she speaks
No language Pepi knows. But this inspires
Ideas once his bonds are cut. He seeks
A plant he saw outside the village: mint!
The liquid he sees passed around? It's rum!
With gestures he conveys his earnest hint.
A sort of muddler's brought to him by dumb
But interested handmaidens. Sugar's there,
And soon he's mixing drinks without a care!