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The Prime Minister's lavish grey hair sat upon her sweaty head as she looked down at the small white telephone sat upon her polished wood table. Her wrinkly left hand holding a rather long marble blue coloured pen. Small white text grated into the sides reading "Vote for the Conservatives!" She had managed to sell a large number of 3 pens to her constitutes earlier in the day as she left the House after the big bad Brexit deal. The phone dangled by her ear as she heard the over so concerning crumbly voice of the right honourable gentlemen, Jeremy Corbyn. It sounded to Theresa as if he had something stuck in his beard and was trying to angle his slimy tongue to scoop it up without being caught somehow."Hello, Prime Minister. Shall we get the talks started then?" The voice echoed in Theresa's poor head. Her eyes dilating with apparent anger from the cheek of the Labour Party! She, however, put her 'hate' aside as she replied with a polite croaky "Hello, Jeremy" soon followed by a yes. She started her long speech on why Brexit should go ahead with a Conservative government for what felt like 45 minutes, it was really only 2 minutes as she sat in silence. She was talking to herself in her head, but only breathing awkwardly into the phone. "Is the Prime Minister occupied with other stuff?" Corbyn snapped, rather rudely, as if some constituent had just written a boring email on the homelessness in Westminster. How he hated pretending to care, just to look better than Theresa."Oh, why don't you just piss off" Theresa spookily cracked. Her voice was as crackly as Rice Crispies adverts. The sass in her voice enough to fire the DUP out of a cannon large enough for their apparent 'massive' party, their words, not Theresa's. "Listen here you tight faced cow, you wasted my time in making me call you when you KNOW you will not LISTEN to the country or me!" Jeremy fired. Clearly, someone tickled his scolly buttocks, or as he called, a beard. Theresa could smell the lower-class inside him all the way from 10 Downing Street. "Why don't you hold on to your beard, Corbyn. We both know that the EU would rather negotiate with me than you any day. You could not and cannot dress formally like a Prime Minister should if you were handed a suit!" The crooked nosed lady barked. Staring emotionless at a rather large portrait of the Iron Lady herself. Theresa studied herself, forcing her back up, putting the pain from out of her mind for the time being. Taking control back. "And YOU couldn't even accept an easy debate against myself. What are you scared of Prime Minister! What is it that holds you back?!" Jeremy forced his bollocks down Theresa's face once again. How she wished it was literally at times, she always had a thing for the sweaty, bolognese smelling man. The last over droppings of pudding remaining in his poverty looking beard."Now listen to me you little rat-faced prick. I may be a WOMAN, but I am strong and stable in the way I backed an online petition that deported you from my country" Theresa shouted. The glass shaking from her loud voices vibrations rattling them in their cell that was her office. "Theresa, that was a petition for to deport Katie Hopkins.. and you didn't back that. In fact, you were not even Prime Minister at the time" Corbyn reminded the stable leader of the United Kingdom. Theresa stopped. Her breath stably crooked out a "One moment"She placed her thumbs in her hands as she twiddled them around. Thinking of what to say. How she wanted to declare her love for him but knew it would mess the country up. It's not like she cared beforehand about the country but, she needed the power to stay relevant. Otherwise, Phillip would leave her. If she was kicked out, she would not get the 'honour' of seeing her Labour-leader crush almost every week. She had one thought. "I have just called a Snap Election!" "That's not how they work, Theresa" Corbyn once again, reminded the Prime Minister. As Theresa was about to reply the line beeped. He had hung up. How dare he? Was he using her? Did he grow the magnificent beard just for her? She pulled a white piece of lined paper and began to write to the Queen. She would request an audience to inform the Queen of today's actions. If she couldn't win against Corbyn, maybe her Royal Highness could.