The Bogeyman and Moby Dick

Great show yesterday Kid. A panting, sweating Tubby Nolan handed you the baton and you were off like a greyhound.
"Go Gerry-GO!" yelled Tommy my cat.
After the great show, Tommy and I sat down for the after match discussion. Alas, Alan Hanson couldn't make it. His plane was turned away from the George Best airport because of an earwig on the runway.
"Tommy cat," I said, "what are your thoughts about that great show?"
Tommy sat there in his canary, yellow, cashmere sweater and said,
"I agree it was a great show, but it could have been a better great show, if Mr. Coyle and the girls could not be heard giggling and, YES! it has to be said, tittering in the background."
"Just what goes on in that room?" I yelled. "What goes on between Mr Coyle, or should I say, gamekeeper Mellors and the fine, buxom wenches who work there?"
"Unspeakable naughty things," said Tommy.
"Ken told me that what goes on in that room, would knock old Nero and his Roman shenanigans into a cocked hat."
"I don't blame the girls," I said. "The girls have fallen under the spell of Salvador Dali Coyle and his huge, waxed eye brow."
"Did you know," said Tommy, "that 87% of young sprogs and rug-rats see Mr Coyle as the bogeyman? Young busy mothers have to open the wardroom door at bedtime and say,
"See dear, no Mr Coyle hiding in there." before they rush down stairs again and get stuck into the wine.
I snorted like a Clydesdale horse and said,
"Mr Coyle should be on a pay-to-view channel, hosting the Degeneration game.
"How do we know he isn't?" said Tommy, with a crafty look on his face.
Could Tommy have found a way round the parental control on my Sky box?
"Like Ulster," said Tubby Nolan, "I find myself at a crossroads."
I looked at Tubby, sitting in his garden, wearing a massive string vest and a pair of electric blue speedos. The oval one was eating a bucket of Muller's yogurt with a big wooden spoon.
"Orson Wells," said Tubby, "Sydney Greenstreet, Oliver Hardy, Fatty Ardbuckle, Tessie O'Shay. All rotund men who made it big in films. I feel," said Tubby, "that motion pictures will be my next career choice. In fact, my agent just phoned to say I have been offered a big part in a remake of a famous film."
"What is the film called?" I asked with a trembling lip
"MOBY DICK!" cried Tubby, with a proud look on his full moon face.
I looked at all the blubber on Tubby.
"How could Ishmael miss THAT?"