Magdha-
10-11-2005, 03:40
Anastasio Somoza Debayle Latimer- the Generalissimo's oldest son- was coming of age. Handsome, urbane, educated, and polite to a fault, he was both popular and endeared to the ladies. He had a college degree, commanded one of the most prominent divisions of the Royal Guard, and was widely believed to be J.L.'s designated successor. He was wealthy, powerful, influential. He seemed to have it all. All except...well, except for a woman to love. A modest fellow, he cared little for his vast wealth, or the enormous prestige he held. He would rather have a beautiful woman with strong traditional values to come home to, to raise a family with. He had dated dozens of girls, of every race, color, creed, and socioeconomic status. Most relationships had been tumultuous and short-lived. At times he despaired, wondering if he was condemned to a life of being a bachelor. Frustrated, desperate, he turned to his father, as he so often did when he needed advice.
"Father," he said, "I want a wife."
The Generalissimo smiled warmly. "Tacho, I am the Generalissimo and you are my son. I shall see to it that you get what you want."
Beaming, nearly in tears, Tacho embraced his father warmly, his eyes alight with joy. "Oh, thank you, thank you, Father!"
The Generalissimo returned the embrace. "My pleasure, my boy," he said. "I am your father, and if you want a wife, by God, I'll find you one."
And so it was that the Generalissimo penned a special note which would be rush-delivered to his old friend, Shah Khosru III:
"My dear friend,
My son, Tacho, aged 19, is quite a lonely man. He wishes for a woman to hold, touch, love, care for. If memory serves, you have a single daughter, two or three years his senior. He was enamored of women slightly older than him. And if she is of your blood, she is surely quite pulchritudinous and of high intelligence. With your permission, I wish to arrange for my son and your daughter to meet."
Respectfully yours,
Generalissimo J.L.
"Father," he said, "I want a wife."
The Generalissimo smiled warmly. "Tacho, I am the Generalissimo and you are my son. I shall see to it that you get what you want."
Beaming, nearly in tears, Tacho embraced his father warmly, his eyes alight with joy. "Oh, thank you, thank you, Father!"
The Generalissimo returned the embrace. "My pleasure, my boy," he said. "I am your father, and if you want a wife, by God, I'll find you one."
And so it was that the Generalissimo penned a special note which would be rush-delivered to his old friend, Shah Khosru III:
"My dear friend,
My son, Tacho, aged 19, is quite a lonely man. He wishes for a woman to hold, touch, love, care for. If memory serves, you have a single daughter, two or three years his senior. He was enamored of women slightly older than him. And if she is of your blood, she is surely quite pulchritudinous and of high intelligence. With your permission, I wish to arrange for my son and your daughter to meet."
Respectfully yours,
Generalissimo J.L.