Today's shake: Double Decker
Total Score: 7.25
General Comments: Double Deckers are, by some margin, the finest chocolate bars to be found on God's green Earth , or at least held the crown for the entirety of the time Whispa bars were absent from the equation. Essentially two delicious treats in one, these chocolate-coated cuboids of brilliance allow me to revel in my OCD-lite tendencies. The trick is to use one's incisors to shear off the nougat piece by piece without breaking the layer of crispy bits below. Success in such an endeavour is more satisfying even than removing the top layer of a bourbon biscuit and scraping off the delicious choccy bits without damaging the bottom layer. 
Sullying the perfection of the Double Decker by hacking it to pieces and adding ice-cream, then, is not something to be done lightly. The thought of marring this Bounteous Chocolate God was sufficiently heretical for me to avoid trying it for more than three months, but ultimately I decided that the process would at least allow me to judge whether I truly loved Double Deckers themselves, or if I simply have a basic need to pull things apart whenever possible.
Having made my choice, and being fully aware of the dark heresy I was about to commit (in the name of science!), I ordered a regular Double Decker shake. It took twice as long as usual to prepare it, because the blender couldn't deal with all the crispy bits. A Double Decker might have been brutally murdered this day, but fair play, he went down fighting like a motherfucker.
The liquidised remains of the former God of Confectionary received a comparatively low Scorn score, because anything chocolate flavour is liable to combine well with milk and vanilla ice-cream. In fact, I would have awarded a mere Scorn 2, but I was sufficiently concerned that the apparently all-but-indescructible crunchy bits would constitute a choking hazard.
In the event, very little chocolate could be tasted at all. It was mainly nougat, which combined pretty well with the vanilla (though it took a few sips to become accustomed to the slightly odd taste), combined with the occasional little crunchy bit, which came under the "nice little treat" heading, rather than the "high-speed mouth lacerators" experienced previously. In fact, much as with the After Eight Shake, the entire final section of the milkshake proved to be a thick soup of ice-cream and chocolate-tinged crispy bits, which worked very well indeed.
In all then, the shake works. Double Decker, your honour is satisfied, and your reputation secure. Rest easy, old friend.
 By which I mean the maths department vending machine.
 See also: cream egg, total hollowing out of via determined licking.