Right then: Wagnarok. Day Two. Rebekah Vardy is reported to be cutting short her holiday to Dubai, and will return to the UK having tasked a crack team of lawyers and IT experts with conducting a forensic investigation of her Instagram account, to which others apparently have access. Meanwhile, second- and fourth-tier Wags Danielle Lloyd, Lizzie Cundy and Nicola McLean have entered the fray, along with the hashtag #notagirlsgirl. And a spokesperson for Coleen Rooney – widely acknowledged as the world’s leading forensic investigator – has reiterated the points made on Wednesday. “It is irrefutable that the leaks came from one account,” runs the statement, “and one account only.”

It’s……… but no. Not yet. Soon, though.

Regular readers will notice I didn’t begin with a recap. Sorry, but if you don’t reflexively understand every 360-degree implication of the above then you must have spent Wednesday trapped under something heavy, or be Liz Truss. More later on the secretary of state for Insta, who doesn’t even understand things that happen on Insta.

In so many ways, Putin getting all up in Wag Instagram would be the highest level of his troll strategy

So yes, I know you know this, but anyway: at 1029 hours on Wednesday morning, Coleen, wife of footballer Wayne, posted a statement, which began by explaining the “burden” of suspecting that someone close to her had been leaking stories to the Sun for years. She had hatched a plan to smoke out the culprit. Specifically, Coleen blocked all accounts bar one from viewing her private Instagram, and began posting various false stories to it. These included a basement flood in her new mansion, a telly comeback, the news that Coleen had travelled to Mexico to explore the possibility of gender selection for her next baby – your basic everyday drama. Affirming her hunch, these tales duly found their way into the Sun. After five months – FIVE MONTHS – of watching this happen, and seeing that the posts had all only been viewed by a single account, Coleen’s investigation was complete. In the words of her deathless payoff, already the quote of the year: “It’s…….. Rebekah Vardy’s account.”

Clearly, it’s one of the great stings of the modern era. It’s very much the report Mueller could have been – and the show Rio Ferdinand’s World Cup Wind-ups should have been. Furthermore, its reveal was faultlessly handled in our amateur sleuth’s gripping Instagram procedural, upon which we’ll slap the working title Mexican Gender Selection, She Wrote.

‘I don’t see Lee Van Cleef having to find everyone’s school shoes.’ For A Few Dollars More (1965). Photograph: Gonzalez/Rex/Shutterstock

It was, of course, Rebekah’s husband, Jamie, who once swept on to Twitter to observe: “Chat shit get banged.” But has there ever been a banging of a shit-chatter like it? Five months! It’s a lifetime! There are characters in spaghetti westerns who have bided their time and planned their revenge quest less doggedly than Coleen. And you know what, she did it at the same time as raising four boys under the age of 10. Clint Eastwood, Charles Bronson – absolute amateurs. Take a look at For a Few Dollars More. I don’t see Lee Van Cleef having to find everyone’s school shoes and bags and inhalers and Vikings projects and spare pants before he even has two minutes to himself, four hours after he got up, to think about hunting down the man responsible for his sister’s death. For Lee, it’s just a stiff drink at the saloon, then off to work. Essentially, it’s a movie about not being able to multi-task.

So, Coleen: what a swashbuckler. Her killer payoff recalls the bit in The Princess Bride where Mandy Patinkin’s character finally meets the six-fingered man who killed his father, and utters the line he has been preparing for years. “My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” Then again. “My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” And so on and so on, as vengeance is his. Only instead of that, I picture Coleen winking her eyelash extensions at Rebekah, drawing her sword and smiling: “It’s…….. Rebekah Vardy’s account. It’s…..…. Rebekah Vardy’s account. It’s…….. Rebekah Vardy’s account. It’s……. Rebekah Vardy’s account.”

‘The ’Nam of It-bags and hair extensions.’ Coleen McLoughlin, centre, and fellow Wags in Baden-Baden, Germany, 2006. Photograph: Mark Large/ANL/Rex/Shutterstock

As for the wider cultural context, let me be super clear: this is about heritage Wags coming together and closing ranks against second-gen interlopers. I don’t care if Rebekah is four years older than Coleen: if she wasn’t in Baden-Baden she’ll never really understand. The 2006 World Cup was the ’Nam of It-bags and hair extensions, and every true Wag succubus was forged in its fires. It was where I saw Victoria Beckham wearing high heels IN a swimming pool. It was where I watched Elen Rives dance on a bar table singing I Will Survive. It was where a slightly delayed flight forced Victoria to observe to the FA: “A dog gets better treatment than this.” It was where Sven-Göran Eriksson was still giving players – billeted in another hotel – what was known in tabloid terms as a “nookie pass”. THAT is heritage. You can’t buy it, even if – as Rebekah’s denial put it – “not being funny but I don’t need the money”. Fast-forward to the present day, and the Baden-Baden Wag fellowship – though dispersed – remain bonded by their shared experience. You’ll know the trash is really being taken out when Alex Gerrard flings open the door of her Overfinch Range Rover in Glasgow, where Stevie G now manages, to reveal vintage Juicy Couture tracksuit bottoms and a tiny T-shirt reading: “It’s………. Rebekah Vardy’s account.”

As for Rebekah…. well, it’s not looking great, let’s be honest. She’s got Nicola McLean batting for her, though seasoned Wag-watchers would class Nicola as “a complete ‘who?’”. But Rebekah denies it utterly, so we’ll see what the crack team of IT experts turn up. My guess is that we might learn of some assistant – since departed – who must be behind it all. Then again it does feel hugely remiss that no one has yet suggested Russian interference. In so many ways, Putin getting all up in Wag Instagram would be the highest level of his troll strategy – the surest indication yet that he truly means to destroy our way of life. If I were Rebekah, I would feel inclined to suggest that the choice of platform lends significant weight to that theory. Only this week, the US Senate investigation into Russian interference with the 2016 presidential election released the second volume of its report, which said: “On the basis of engagement and audience following measures, the Instagram social media platform was the most effective tool used by the [Russian-backed] Internet Research Agency to conduct its information operations campaign.”

On the other hand, it would be the only disinformation campaign to sow unity as opposed to discord. Not that this has been noticed by Truss, who brought up the story in a speech on Wednesday night. “There’s been a massive fallout between some very influential figures in our country,” the trade secretary told her audience, “that has divided the nation.” It has united it, but go on. “There’s been finger-pointing, there’s been blame-shifting, and there has been denials. But enough about Coleen Rooney and Rebekah Vardy. Now for those of you who don’t know, those are footballers’ wives – ”

I’m sorry, I’ve got to draw a veil there. HOW DID SHE MISS??? Literally the worst use of an open goal since Diana Ross’s spot kick in the 1994 World Cup opening ceremony. The only positive for Liz is that international media, from the New York Times to far beyond, have covered the Coleen/Rebekah story. So when all the rest of our trade goes tits-up, Liz can at least bank on the fact we export beef.

In terms of other cultural exports, let’s hope all this means the Jamie Vardy movie has legs again. Do you remember this one? Following Leicester’s miracle Premier League-winning season in 2016, there was a whole series of stories which claimed there was going to be a Hollywood movie about Jamie Vardy. (I do hope they originated on Coleen’s private Instagram account, but I accept you can’t have it all.) At the time, it was being described as a Jamie Vardy biopic, which had “Gary Barlow investment vehicle” written all over it. But now – well!

Surely it has to be back on – and it has to be directed by Oliver Stone. Sources tell me Oliver was on the phone late into last night, pacing his Californian study, having obviously sided with Rebekah. “Right?! Right?! It’s her ‘account’. ANYONE COULD HAVE HAD ACCESS. I don’t buy the official story at all. This REEKS of Langley….. and you know, that’s just the start of the conspiracy…..”