WIDDECOMBE: No, I have no regrets, I have great tits, why shouldn't I show them?
SPECTATOR: But the beaver shots, perhaps, were a bit tasteless?
WIDDECOMBE: What? What? Scared of a little beaver are we? Nonsense, it's the most natural thing in the world. Here, look, I'll get it out now, your photographer is prowling.
SPECTATOR: No...look, really...
WIDDECOMBE: You're sure? I think you're scared. I don't mind. It's the font of my feminine power, I'm not ashamed.
SPECTATOR: Would you describe yourself as a feminist?
WIDDECOMBE: The label to me is irrelevant. What I'm interested in is empowerment. And whether you describe yourself as a feminist or a post-feminist or a pre-feminist or whatever, all that matters is that you have a vagina and how you use it. Do you keep it locked away and hidden like some deep dark secret? Or do you recognize that it is a weapon of great power and take it out and flaunt it and use it as such? Now take when I was in the cabinet. Michael Heseltine, I remember, had opposed my suggested amendment to the Water Deregulation bill. I went to him in his office and said, quite calmly, 'I have something to show you.' He said, 'You're not going to change my mind about this.' And I just stood there and revealed it to him, my vagina, and he went pale and started trembling all over. He knelt to it and sipped from it as from a chalice. From that time on, he belonged to me. Do you understand? I owned him.
SPECTATOR: If we could turn to your successors in government. What do you think of, for example, Tony Blair's handling of the Iraq crisis?
WIDDECOMBE: Well this whole nonsense is so depressing, because of course all war comes from penises. But women have only themselves to blame, because whenever some man gets out of line it mean that some woman doesn't know how to use her vagina correctly. Now if I was Saddam Hussein's wife or President Bush's wife or Tony Blair's wife none of this would be happening, because they would be too busy fucking me six ways from Friday to ever have the time to start any trouble. In fact I wouldn't even have to do that, I would merely have to stand before them naked with my hands on my hips and the source of my power revealed and they would fall down before me and weep. There is no question of it, they would belong to my vagina.
SPECTATOR: Ann Widdecombe, thankyou very much.
WIDDECOMBE: Kiss it, little man. Kiss my vagina. Kneel to it.
SPECTATOR: Dear God...so lovely...I never...
WIDDECOMBE: Well? I'm waiting.