"Th-This is sss-suh-something eh-else," Bill agreed. He was also on his third beer, and was drawing on the little sketchbook he always carried round with him as they spoke. "It isn't huh-here. I, I'd have k-k-kuh-killed it l-l-long a-ago if ih-it h-had b-b-been, I swuh-swear."
Then he tore the page out of the sketchpad round and handed it to Richie. It showed a line running the length of the page. One end of it said "1976" and the other said "2020+". A line branched off at 1989, and was labeled "Bill", and it wound up on a brief sketch of the Station, which had "2019" written on it. A second line branched off at 2016, and it also wound up at the Station. It was labeled with "Richie". This seemed quicker than stuttering through things repeatedly.
"I've l-lived here f-f-for over tw-tw-tuh-twenty-fuh-five y-y-years, a-and th-that f-f-fuh-fuh-ffffucker isn't h-here." He drank some of his beer after that. The next time he spoke, though, he seemed a lot more business-like. "H-How d-d-d-did you kuh-kill it? W-Wuh-What h-h-happened?"