I imagine it went something like this...
Dave the unemployed Whispa executive gets a call from Cadburys HQ. It's time for you to get back on the horse Dave, they say. Better sober up son. Two cadburys management types bust through his bedsit door and throw him in the cold shower. It's the festival crowd, Dave. They've demanded the Whispa. Within a week Dave's snorting cocoa powder off of Berty Bassett's thighs and riding around in his newly refurbished Delorean.
Anyway... they remain disgusting.
I should know. I just ate one.
Here's a picture of it.