Count St. Germain dead and be called a lower rank Earl.

Count St. Germain dead and earn yourself an L.

Count St. Germain dead and be shocked to find he’s your dad.

Count St. Germain dead and be chagrined to learn you live on Germain Street.

Count St. Germain dead and be astonished at the truth that he’s immortal.

“I m mortal,” Count will say if he did count on your non-reply, “only when confined to the realms of spitting words.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I never die,” Count will say if he did count on your understanding, “only ever dye.”

“Dyed the G in Germain to a J,” Count will say if he knew you could count to Big Three, “now I’m the saint of hip-hop.”

“Kendrick’s the Boogeyman,” Count will say if he did count on you spreading the word, “and Aubrey’s a wingless dragon. Speaking of a drake…”