It's a trap.
The same objections to croissant aux amandes apply.
This is yesterday's unsold, unloved and unwanted pain au chocolat. Dried out, gutted, stuffed with harsh industrial frangipan and cooked just past the point of burning (in an electric oven judging by the photo).
The original alchemy of buttery pastry and bitter chocolate are lost forever, caramelised past recognition and present only as a singed reminder of what could have been.
Sometimes I succumb, and buy one and greedily, guiltily consume.
But afterwards I feel dirty.