While the loss of Khalid Sheikh Mohammed is certainly an unexpected blow to our noble goal of spreading death, destruction and mayhem so that the infidels may better appreciate the peaceful teachings of Allah, it is by no means fatal. We have any number of talented YUMITs (Young, Upwardly Mobile Islamic Terrorists) eager to fill the void.
The real problem we are faced with is that we don't know what Khalie is telling his evil captors. If the Americans are the ones interrogating him, we have nothing to worry about. They are much too concerned about violating people's civil rights, and will never be able to extract any useful information from him.
On the other hand, if the Pakistani authorities are the ones asking him the questions, then we may be in trouble. They're a rough bunch, and won't hesitate to use electrodes and cattle prods on one's, shall we say, "delicate parts." And if that happens, Khalie will be singing like a canary in heat. I should know, because the man is a wimp. He loves to dish out pain but can't take it himself. Cries like a baby when something hurts.
I remember one time Khalie fell off his camel (brilliant terrorist mastermind, but clumsy as hell) and landed on a scorpion, which promptly stung him. I ended up having to suck the poison out of his ass. He was screaming the whole time like a little girl being stoned for going to school.
Consequently we have begun moving around more than we used to. Even I don't know where we are any more. Hopefully we'll come across a Radio Shack soon so we can buy a GPS unit. And some batteries. Plus I need one of those adaptors for a big headphone plug to a mini headphone plug.
Then we'll disembowel the clerks and blow up the store.