Free The Nekropolis Archives by Tim Waggoner

sequin-covered evening gown. The female body could've graced the cover of any high-profile beauty magazine back on Earth… as long as the photographer made sure to shoot her from the neck down.
      Tri-bod's mushy facial features were contorted into an angry scowl, and when it spoke, its voice was a combination of male tenor, female alto, and male bass.
      "What the hell do you think you're doing, dumbass? You can't drive on the streets today! They're closed!"
      Tri-bod came up onto the sidewalk and one of its male components shoved me aside so it could lean down and look at Lazlo while it yelled at him. To help keep its balance, all six of Tri-bod's hands grabbed hold of the cab at various points.
      "You really don't want to do that," I warned.
      Devona shot me a questioning look, but before I could answer, the hood of Lazlo's cab sprung open, revealing a maw filled with razor-sharp teeth. A serpentine tongue whipped through the air toward Tri-bod's middle neck and wrapped tight around the soft feminine flesh.
      "I only got one rule," Lazlo said calmly. "Hands off the cab."
       Though Tri-bod had two other sets of lungs to breathe with, its face nevertheless began to turn purple. I guess a head that big needed all the oxygen it could get.
      I leaned close to one of Tri-bod's misshapen ears. "Ever see a kid pop the head off a dandelion? If I you were you, I'd apologize."
      Tri-bod's eyes bulged from a combination of terror and air loss. Its flabby lips moved silently several times before it finally managed to gasp out, "Sorry" in its two male voices. The female voice was silent.
      Nothing happened right away, and for a moment I thought the cab wasn't going to accept Tri-bod's apology. But then the tongue released the woman-neck, receded into the toothsome mouth, and the hood slammed shut.
      Lazlo smiled at Tri-bod, the expression truly grotesque on the cabbie's inhuman face.
      "Now, what were you saying about my not being allowed to drive here?"
      "N-nevermind," Tri-bod wheezed. The creature leaned back, took its hands off Lazlo's cab, and beat three pairs of feet out of there. It quickly merged with the crowd and did its best to disappear into the throng. If there was anyone else around who was displeased with Lazlo's driving, they decided to keep their feelings to themselves.
      Lazlo looked up at me, his hideous smile widening into a truly appalling grin. "Need a ride, pal?"
      "You know I do. When else do you show up?"
      He guffawed again, sounding this time like he was about to cough up a kidney. "You slay me, Matt." He put the engine in park, hopped out, opened the rear door, and gestured for us to climb in, bowing as he did so.
      "Your chariot awaits."
      Lazlo, despite my attempts to convince him that it would be in the best interests of the entire citizenry of Nekropolis, refuses to wear clothing. His body resembles a spider that's been turned inside out and then stomped on. I've gotten somewhat accustomed to his rather unique anatomy over the years, but Devona's eyes goggled.
      "No offense," she said, "but I'd prefer to walk."
      I'm sure Tri-bod's reception by Lazlo's cab was as much behind her reticence to get into the vehicle as was the sight – and smell – of the demon's unclothed body.
      "Don't worry," I told her. "The cab won't do anything as long as Lazlo vouches for us. Besides, every moment we waste is another moment for your father to find out what's happened." I added this last bit softly, so Lazlo wouldn't overhear.
      She hesitated, but finally agreed. "I may have to hold my nose the whole trip, though."
      "Go right ahead." I didn't tell her it wouldn't help. She'd find out soon enough.
      We got into the cab; Lazlo closed the door, hopped behind the driver's seat, and put the car in gear.
      "Surprise me, Lazlo," I said, "and try not to drive like a maniac for a ch–" That's as far as I got before Lazlo slammed on the gas and I was