Actually, the night before last was definitely a more unusual dream. I was in some little town in New Hampshire and there was an outbreak of zombies shambling all over the place, including the schoolmarm, but we'd left our guns in New York City, so I had to hop in my '72 Buick Electra Deuce-and-a-Quarter and drive down to fetch them.
And so there I was in a parking lot in the Big Apple in the middle of the night, with all these EBR's laid out on the trunk and roof of the car, loading mags by the mercury-vapor glow of the street light and trying to get the stupid passers-by to stop picking the guns up and pointing them at each other, when I noticed that someone had been into the cache and replaced all the AKs and MP-5s with airsoft guns, leaving us with about half as many guns as we should have had, and I thought "Dude, Marko is going to be pissed when he finds out."
My biggest worry was that there was only the one M4gery, and the other guns were SIG 552s and Galils and other guns whose manual of arms I'm not as switched on with. I can run an AR in my sleep (apparently) and I'm pretty up to speed on the AK and HK, but those had been replaced with airsofts, so I was hoping nobody else would want the M4.
And when I got back to New Hamster, we found out that it was a batch of bad pepperoncini that was turning people into brain-eating shamblers, and so we were driving from deli to pizzeria, smashing jars of pepperoncini.
Last night was your more basic run-of-the-mill dream that involved shopping in a Borders book store that had a breakfast buffet, and the other shoppers kept joggling my elbow in the buffet line and the bacon would slide off my plate, causing me to have to try and get back in line to get bacon. Also, there weren't enough napkins and the ones there were were flimsy like the ones in the packets with the plastic utensils at a takeout joint and they wouldn't get the bacon grease off your fingers worth a darn, and I was thinking "Whose bright idea was it to serve bacon in a book store, anyway?"
And the Borders was in some kind of post-apocalyptic Bartertown where they were building a working half-size model of the Space Shuttle to launch into orbit. And there was a Jayne-like statue of Bonnie in the town square for some reason, across from the place that sold antique hubcaps and '50s-vintage tin toys.
Anyhow, yeah, like I said: Pretty run-of-the-mill dream.