How DNA strands does it take to change a lightbulb? Not as many as you would think.

Susan just stared at the DNA Map on Mick's Laptop as it turned. The graphic was clear, Floyd was actually missing a strand of his DNA. It seemed impossible, she glanced over to see Wilson demanding something from Floyd who blubber like and infant and she shook her head, this guy could be missing entire sequences of DNA and no one would notice- definitely not Floyd anyway. She shook her head then turned back as Mick tried unsuccessfully to get his laptop to isolate the strand in question. The result of which is the Mac Book locked up and the apple appeared and Mick started cursing (a lot).
Susan turned back to find Floyd asleep in his chair- snoring. Wilson was nowhere to be seen. Odd.

Dr. Williams stepped back and took his glasses off to rub his eyes. Mick stopped swearing at the laptop and stood up.
"Sorry." He said, looking a bit embarrassed.
"It's okay." Susan said.
"Fucking Macs." Mick said as if that was an explanation.
"I guess we will need a server to pull this kind of crunching." Dr. Williams said. "Is there a university or lab or something around here."
"I'll have to ask around." Susan said as she walked past Floyd to the tent flap.
"In the meantime, Mick and I will try to get the Computer working again."

Why did the Chicken Cross the road or in other words and by that I mean completely unscientific words.

Wilson shook his head in disgust. Floyd would never change, the drunk was never lucid even when he was on his way to being stoned.
Floyd looked up at Wilson and began to cry.
And it was ugly crying.

Wilson took a long step back.
"What the hell?"

Floyd tried to speak and then blubbered with snot running down his ugly face. It took him awhile and most of the sleeve of his one piece that a tech had given him when they confiscated his clothes. But he managed to stop.
"They- them!" He pointed out the tent. "Theys taked it away!"

Wilson rolled his eyes upward and mouthed a 'What the Fuck" and then stepped in front of Floyd.

"What did they take away?"

"I dunno-"

"Oh for crap's sake!" Wilson considered hitting the man then reminded himself that he would be wasting his time.

"I dunno what it was but it was sure pretty and glowing and shit."

"Like?"

"A little ball of light only it felt like rubber."

"Oh. Well I'll check on that." Wilson said straightening his uniform and stepping back.

"Will- they give it back when they are done with it?" Floyd asked.

"Sure." Wilson said before he stepped out of the tent.

Then these Aliens came down from the sky and gave me a chicklet

By the time, Susan and Dr. Williams got to talk to Floyd Wilkinson, it was 9am. The man had been scrubbed clean of everything including his tattered remains of clothing, shaved bald and dressed in a spare hazmat suit. He sat in the tent with a dazed expression, band-aids on his arms where the techs had taken numerous blood samples. He was at least fairly sober.
He looked at them as if trying to focus as they came in under escort. Wilson came in with them. Susan was glad to have him there. not sure why but the Marine's presence was reassuring. Floyd did not show that he remembered or even recognized Wilson.
The man just sat at a hastily erected folding table with a desolate expression.
They brought in their own folding chairs and sat down across from him. After a moment, Mick came in with a laptop and his own chair (somehow) and sat up next to Dr. Williams. It made her legal pad seem insignificant.
Then there was silence (the pregnant pause as it were).
Floyd looked at them, they looked at Floyd.
No, actually, they stared at him hard.

Floyd gulped and looked away.
"What?"

No one responded for a few beats, then Dr. Williams cleared his throat and shrugged.
"Floyd? I am Dr. Bill Williams, this is my lab assistant Mick Ohare," He stopped to point at Mick then pointed at her. "This is Dr. Susan McGraff."

"Youins doctors?"

"No, we are scientists."

"Who's he?" Floyd pointed at Wilson.

"No one important." Wilson said. They must have all looked at him. He shrugged.

"What do you want?" Floyd asked.

"Well, Floyd, we were hoping that you could tell us what happened earlier tonight?"

"Oh. Well like I told those fellers who were just here. I pulled over by the road to take a leak-"

"The road is over 75 yards from where your truck hit that tree." Wilson interrupted.

Floyd peered hard at Wilson then shrugged.

"I guess I pulled way off the road then." He stopped to peer at Wilson who shrugged.

"And then?" Dr. Williams prompted.

"Anyways, I was standing there in the field taking a leak when this bright light comes out of the sky so I look up and blam!"
Floyd sits back and spreads his hands.

"Blam?" Dr. Williams prompts.

"What?"

"Blam, that's it?" Dr. Williams sighs, leans back then takes off his glasses before rubbing the bridge of his nose. "That's all you remember?"

"Well yeah, I mean no. Shit."

"What do you mean, Floyd?" Wilson interjected.

Floyd peered up at him again.

"I know you. Your that cop!"

"I was that cop." Wilson sighed.

"Oh." Floyd answered as if not sure what to say next.

"What do you remember next?" Dr. Williams asked as calmly as he could manage. his right foot had begun to tap.

"Um- right, well there was this bright light and then I was kind of- well I was dreamin' and these aliens came out of the light and gave me a-"

"You have got to be kidding me!" Mick suddenly said.

"What now?" Dr. Williams asked.

"This man is missing some of his DNA strands!" Mick said, staring at his laptop.

"What?" Both Dr. Williams and Susan said together.

"I was running a scan over the bioscans the techs did of that man and look at this-" Mick pointed at the simulation running on his computer.

Susan and Dr. Williams crowded around the laptop. Floyd forgotten.

Wilson stared down at the stunned man.

"What did these aliens give you Floyd?"

Since it is the 66th anniversary of Roswell

Susan spent much of the next two hours looking at the mostly invisible evidence at the event field. When she finally saw the visible evidence- she found that she wished that she hadn't. To put it in basic English, it amounted to green, yellow bile like what you spit up when one is very ill with a respiratory infection. She decided a short walk outside the event area would be better.
The sun was coming up and she stopped by one of the lab trucks to catch her breath.
"I never imagined something like this happening less than 25 miles from where I was born."
Susan looked around to find the Marine from the SUV lounging against a stack of plastic crates.
"You are from around here?' She asked.
He shrugged, took a sip of something that smelled like coffee and then pointed over to his right, south-south east.
"I was born and raised down in a holler near here."
"What is a "holler?" she managed a smile.
He straightened. She made note that he was pretty good looking like most Marines she had met over the course of her dealings with the General. Most men who wore uniforms and were in peak shape tended to be.
He sighed.
"Sorry Ma'am, I forget that if you aren't from the South, there are terms we use that no one else does."
"It's Susan, not Ma'am." She said
"Not sure I can call you that." He said even as the smile crept across his face. "A Holler is a hollow which usually can be a dip in the land or a gap in a hill. These days with all the development, the holler itself is long gone and only the name remains."
"Like Sleepy Hollow?"
"Don't know that one, Ma'am."
She almost replied with the headless horseman but decided against it.
He stood up and bent down and picked up a flask.
"Coffee?"
"Yes, thanks."
He handed her a cup- the lid cup from the flask and poured the black coffee into it, the steam rising into the growing light.
"Looks like they will be combing this site for days." She said then decided that stating the obvious was about as dumb a line as she had ever come up with.
"The locals are going to hate it." He said. The sunlight hit him as it does in the morning and she could see his name tag on his fatigues. Wilson and the other military Abbreviations that always escaped her.
"Speaking of which...." Wilson trailed off as he began looking at something to the right.
She turned to look where he was looking.
A squad of Marines were escorting a rather rumpled man through the tent camp.
"Do you know him?" She asked.
"Yes, it's Floyd Wilkinson- the town drunk- well one of the 50 or so."
She stared at him (probably agape).
Wilson glanced at her then shrugged, he looked embarrassed.
"I was a Deputy Sheriff before I enlisted, so I got to know all of them sots before I left."
"Wow."
"I know. There are other words that come to mind."
"I know, like FUCK."
"Wow. Why is that one of them?"
"Because Floyd may be our only eyewitness to the event."
"So what you are saying is that this is going to become another Roswell Incident."
"Looks like it."
"Fuck."
"I know."