Seed of my loins, hear me!
You now read the words of Temüjin, uniter of Asia, horse master, and possibly your father’s father’s father’s father’s father’s father’s sire.
After ordering my concubines to spit my semen into a small vessel, my swiftest courier delivered that vessel to 23andMe. My courier returned less than a moon later with a new vessel and a note from Customer Service demanding that I fill that new vessel with only my mouth moisture—no semen.
In a rage, I beheaded my courier, but one of my more resourceful eunuchs caught the drool that fury let spill from my lips into the new vessel. I took that vessel, placed it into the mouth of my courier, sealed his head inside a jade chest, and FedExed that chest back to 23andMe. Customer Service understood my warning.
On the day of the feast celebrating my victory over the Bulgars, I received my 23andMe results. I, Genghis Khan, scourge of the Turks, am 98.4% East Asian, 0.6% Sub-Saharan African, and 1% Neanderthal.
My noble form has a slightly increased risk for age-related macular degeneration, yet the great sky spirit has seen fit to leave me “variant not detected” for Hereditary Fructose Intolerance. I am feasting on a barrel of Bulgarian plums as I dictate this to my scribes ;)
You were brought to my attention by the great Al-gorithm. You are one of my two billion DNA relatives. Would you be willing to share your ancestry with your Khan? (I ask, but read that question as a threat to your family and loved ones should you decline.)
I wonder if you also flush when you drink fermented yak milk, or if your earlobes are attached like mine, or if you too can detect the foul stench of the asparagus plant in your night water.
0.09% of my blood flows through your veins. We are tribesmen. I await your response and remain…
Your great great great great great great grandest Khan,
P.S. Ignoring this request will bring the full might of the fearsome Mongol hordes down on Hoboken, New Jersey.