I dreamed I met my roomie at an indoor range to do some shooting. It was the only indoor range I've been to with a dirt floor.
I'd forgotten to bring any .22, so I went to the counter to buy some. They were out of all CCI except for shotshells and CB Longs and Green Tag and suchlike, and completely out of Winchester and Federal. I bought the last carton of Remington Yellowjacket, leaving a couple forlorn cartons of unplated Remmie deuce-deuce as the only cheap ammo they had. The guy behind me in line was peeved.
Anyhow, in Dreamlandia, we were about to be invaded by $RANDOM_DREAM_FOREIGN_ARMY_WITH_ACCENTS and the government was trying to urge citizens to form themselves into armed neighborhood militias and resist even if the army got overpowered.
The catchy name for these that they came up with was "Zombie Squads", which I'll bet even Hussein himself would agree sounds a lot cooler than "Saddam Fedayeen". There was even a Public Service Announcement with a catchy jingle extolling the virtues of joining your neighborhood Zombie Squad. Now I have an earworm from a song that doesn't exist outside my head...