Mike screams inside his head as the stripper turns and walks off the stage while fiddling with the gun. He’sstuck as a stripper pole. He wails and pleads in silence as one stripper after another, including the one that found the gun, come out day after day to do their routines, each of them oblivious that the inanimate stage prop that they slide and twirl around was once a human being.
The music never stops, the lights never turn off. Mike can't remember what the outside world looks like, the passage of time is a long, sleepless, endless cacophony of noise upon his senses. Eventually new strippers arrive while the old ones leave, including the one that found the gun. And eventually, his mind breaks. As the endless days roll by into years and decades, he forgets that he used to be human, that the delusions he had were just a strange daydream. He has forgotten his name, his face, everyone that he ever knew vanishes from his tattered mind. He don't even bother trying to learn the names of the new dancers that rotate in and out: they're just humans and he’s just their thing. You've never been anything more than their thing.
The decades roll by and the club begins to show age and disrepair. Customer numbers and quality begin to drop, and the music blaring from the aging speakers crackles with static and distortion. Even the girls become less desirable, the bottom of the barrel as they fumble around the cold surfaces of the stripper pole, greedily snatching at the strange plastic chips that replaced the paper bills. Fights break out between drunks and horny men pawing at the girls. Roaches can be seen crawling in the corners. Eventually a crackle of blue electricity shoots out from one customer into another, converting him into a cloud of red mist that coats the surface of the stripper pole and every surface in the dive the strip club has become. More humans show up in strange black and white armor and turn off the music and lights. For the first time in the stripper pole’s now-limited memory does it know silence. The patrons leave, the girls leave, everyone leaves and then it is just the stripper pole in the decrepit strip club, alone save for the roaches, rats and the occasional vagrant that wanders in.
It stays like that for a long time, missing the noise, the activity before it too slips from the mind...