Super Jeremy

"Mugwump!", said the Boris, a strange fuzzy blonde creature, nervously pointing at the view screen of Theresa May's villainous lair deep under Number 10.
"Yes Boris", said Theresa, picking up the Boris and stroking him like a cat, "I see him coming but SuperJeremy will never win, not with my arsenal of dirty tricks".
Then she barked, "Fire the anti-semitism smears".
Immediately, a volley of smears came hurtling towards Jeremy sticking to him like mucky gloop.
"Piccaninny!", said the Boris.
"Yes, Boris", replied  Theresa, "With the papers and tv under Tory control everyone will believe our smears and will forget what a bigoted party we are".
But then suddenly, horrified, Theresa and the Boris saw the smears dropping off of Jeremy, refusing to stick.
"Drat that Jeremy and his people power", said Theresa, "The voters aren't believing our smears, they're not as stupid as we thought".
The Boris looked up at her worriedly.
"Poop!", he said in a frightened voice
"Fear not my pet", said Theresa, stroking the Boris, "Theres still the Novichok factory".
"Oompa - loompa- doompity-doo", sang the Boris, dancing about like an oompa-loompa.
"No Boris", said Theresa, picking up her telephone, "Not chocolate factory. Porton Down".
Then, talking into the phone she asked, "Hello Porton Down? Can you confirm that the Novichok was made in Russia? Not really? That sounds like a yes to me. Thats good enough".
And barking out orders again, she shouted, "Expel the Russian diplomats!".
On the screen, she saw Jeremy shaking his head and pointing to the rule book.
"Look at him, the fool. Always trying to be fair and sticking to the rules", she said, "Thats why he is weak".
"Putin puppet",  growled the Boris, pointing an accusing finger at Jeremy.
"Thats right, Boris", said Theresa, snarling, going into a mad frenzy, "Call him a traitor! TRAITOR! TRAITOR!".
But calling him a traitor wasn't working, Jeremy was still coming.
"Its no good", said Theresa, "What ever lies we hurl at him, people just won't believe them but don't worry. I still have one trick up my sleeve. The Blairite maneuver".
And as she said that, suddenly, Jeremy started to lose control of his right hand that, picking up a dagger, tried stabbing him in the back.
Theresa and the Boris both started to laugh evilly.
"He's doomed now!", said Theresa.
But then suddenly, just as the treacherous Blairite hand was winning, Jeremy heard people starting to chant.
"Ohhh, Jeremy Corbyn!", they were chanting and it was getting louder and louder and as its noise grew, Jeremy felt the power of the people return.
"No!", screamed Theresa May.
"Help!", said the Boris.
But it was too late; the people had the power and the people had spoken. Jeremy had won.