Wayne Rooney defended his foul-mouthed outburst to the Sky cameras on Saturday by admitting to a close friend that he was merely placing an order for that night’s celebrations.

The ‘Scouse Pele’ had just bagged an impressive hat-trick for Man United as they over-hauled a two-goal deficit at Upton Park to further cement their claim for the league title.

However, as Robert Green was despondently picking out the third from West Ham’s net the striker ran to a nearby camera and promptly undid any decent PR heading his way by unleashing a string of spittle-accompanied expletives.

Initially it was believed that the hair-deprived genius had grunted ‘fuck off’ followed by ‘fuck, yeah’, a reasonably articulate proclamation of his joy given his simian limitations.

The Cutter however sought out an expert in Scouse dialect, or more accurately a mate of the player, who has revealed that his actual words were ‘A fuck yeah?’ followed by ‘And a fucking blowy’.

The friend explains,

‘Wazza was simply letting Madame Veronika know what he wanted that evening when he paid her a visit.’

Madame Veronika – real name Beryl Whyte – is the septuagenarian proprietor of an unlicensed brothel that specializes in mature loving. Appropriately called The Wizard’s Sleeve, the club is allegedly a regular haunt for the player.

Our source revealed why Rooney was so open about announcing his deviant desires live in front of millions of viewers instead of simply calling in private.

‘Since he was last busted Coleen has started conducting daily searches of the house for any pay-as-you-go phones. Wazza was obviously getting desperate and he knows that his missus doesn’t watch any of the matches. So he felt that this was probably his most secure medium to forewarn all the grans at the knocking shop to put down their knitting, glug back plenty of Sanatrogen Plus and get oiled up. By which I mean lavender oil naturally.’

‘He did something similar last season in the cup. Viewers thought he was holding up five fingers to represent the score-line, but in actual fact Coleen had put him on a salad-only diet and he was really signalling to his local Chinese that he would call round later for a number 32 with rice.’

We tried to contact Mrs Smith, whose business card espouses hairnets over fishnets, and features a full frontal nude shot of a blue-rinsed dear who appears to be wearing nippled knee-pads, but she couldn’t hear the phone ringing with Antiques Roadshow turned up to full volume.