I dreamed the audience was made of mannequins

I'm on stage, doing my set, and every single person in the room is a mannequin — not the creepy kind, the blank, posed kind from a department store window. They're all staring ahead with those painted eyes, not blinking, and I keep trying different bits, waiting for a laugh that never comes, but I can't stop because the spotlight is so hot and the show must go on. Eventually I notice one of them has a price tag on its wrist, and I wake up wondering if I'm the one on display.