THE BOY WHO WAS IN A COMA FOR 8 YEARS, PART I OF III

When the boy who was in a coma for 8 years woke up in the Medical Memorial Hospital, he had a beard. This is because when you're in a coma, you can't shave. The boy knew this, but it still surprised him because he didn't know he'd been in coma for 8 years. This is another side effect of being in a coma for 8 years.
His mom was there, too, at the Medical Memorial Hospital, with a Pepsi. Before the coma, which had lasted now for 8 years, the boy didn't like Pepsi, which upset his mom. She thought that perhaps being in a coma for 8 years may have changed his tastes a little bit. She specifically thought that being in a coma for 8 years may alter your carbonated beverage taste-buds, a theory which modern medical medicine has yet to disprove, due to lack of interest. When the boy awoke from his 8 year coma, the first words he said were mama and Pepsi. This looked good for the mom's theory, but in actuality, the boy was just speaking out loud the first things he saw after waking up from his coma, that had now lasted for 8 years.
"You've been in a coma for 8 years," the boy's mom informed him, holding the Pepsi can label forward.
"That must be why I have a beard." the boy observed, with a short laugh.
"That was a short laugh for someone who's been in a coma for 8 years," his mom smiled judgmentally.
"I must have missed a vast number of current events while in my 8 year coma, I'd be surprised to discover if Tom Cruise is no longer with Nicole Kidman, the Russians have launched a satellite, Mr. Sulu is gay, or Kate and Allie is off the air," the boy said, shaving his beard.
"You are in luck, my son, none of those events are current," his mom cried. Her tears fell down her cheek and up her nose, in defiance of physics. Goddamn tears.
"Don't cry mom, it's really gross." the boy shouted, releasing 8 years worth of anger on the second closest person in the room, if you count the can of Pepsi as a person.
Just then a third person entered the room, who was neither the boy nor his mother. It was the boy’s doctor, who had been following the boy’s coma for 8 years, which, coincidentally was the length of the boy’s coma.
“I’m sorry, I must be in the wrong room, this is the room of the boy, you know, the one in the coma?” The doctor sneered with a sarcastic sneer of sarcasm.
“No, this is the right room,” the boy averred, if I am using that word right.
“Sorry, your coma has made you impervious to sarcasm, which is why I added the sneer. This room is for patients only, if you are no longer comatose, you must vamoose the hospital,” the doctor ordered, sarcasm dripping from his sneer and onto the bib he had worn for just such an occasion.
“But, but, but, but,” the mother stammered, quoting the second verse of her favorite Big Bopper song.
“I must insist you leave,” the doctor repeated. “We need this bed, anyhow. There’s a party in the next room and the guests need a place to put their overcoats.”
And with that, the boy who was in a coma for 8 years was cast out into the cold, hard, smelly smelly world to begin his harrowing journey. And his mother went home, to try and find a place for the sixteen cases of Pepsi she had purchased for her now-conscious, ever-ungrateful boy.
WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT? WHO WILL CARE? HOW DO YOU TURN OFF CAPS LOCK?