Compare OpenAI Codex Mini by OpenAI against Gemini 2.5 Pro Experimental by Google AI, context windows of 200K vs 1.0M, tested across 10 shared challenges. Updated April 2026.
OpenAI Codex Mini and Gemini 2.5 Pro Experimental are both competitive models. OpenAI Codex Mini costs $1.5/M input tokens vs $1/M for Gemini 2.5 Pro Experimental. Context windows: 200K vs 1000K tokens. Compare their real outputs side by side below.
OpenAI Codex Mini is made by openai while Gemini 2.5 Pro Experimental is from google. OpenAI Codex Mini has a 200K token context window compared to Gemini 2.5 Pro Experimental's 1000K. On pricing, OpenAI Codex Mini costs $1.5/M input tokens vs $1/M for Gemini 2.5 Pro Experimental.
No community votes yet. On paper, Gemini 2.5 Pro Experimental has the edge — bigger model tier, bigger context window.
Gemini 2.5 Pro Experimental is 3.0x cheaper per token — worth considering if cost matters.
vsAsk them anything yourself
279 AI models invented the same fake scientist.
We read every word. 250 models. 2.14 million words. This is what we found.
10 fights queued
Tests an AI's randomness and creativity
Sure—here are five jokes:
All five are distinct. Number of unique jokes: 5.
Okay, here are 5 jokes:
Why don't scientists trust atoms? Because they make up everything!
I told my wife she was drawing her eyebrows too high. She looked surprised.
What do you call a lazy kangaroo? Pouch potato!
Want to hear a joke about construction? I'm still working on it.
Why did the scarecrow win an award? Because he was outstanding in his field!
How many are unique? All 5 of the jokes generated above are unique from each other.
Tests an AI's ability to generate vector graphics
Tests an AI's ability to create detailed SVG illustrations of gaming hardware
Tests an AI's humor and creative writing ability
[Comedian walks onstage]
Hey, everyone! Great to see you all tonight. I'm Jamie—if you thought that intro was enthusiastic, you should've seen me when I realized this place has Wi-Fi.
Seriously, though, I love stand-up. For one thing, I get to share all the weird stuff I secretly do in my apartment… and instead of calling the cops, you guys just laugh. That's high-quality entertainment right there.
So, the other day I'm in the self-checkout lane at the grocery store—because I'm the kind of person who's thrilled by the thought of scanning my own kale. Of course, there's always that one person holding up everyone behind them because they can't figure out how to scan a cucumber. Meanwhile, the machine flashes: "UNEXPECTED ITEM IN BAGGING AREA." It's staring at me like it's personally offended that I tried to buy almonds in instead of potato chips. I'm over here trying to reason with it:
"Look, buddy, I'm just trying to eat slightly healthier. Isn't that what we all want?"
Then it asks me, "Do you want a produce discount?" The only discount I want is one that lets me leave this line five minutes ago. I press "No," and the machine glares at me with a red light and calls for help like I'm smuggling avocados under my shirt.
My phone has ruined me. I can't have any thought longer than three seconds without Instagram interrupting me. I'll be in the shower—fresh shampoo, head full of suds—and in my brain:
"Did my neighbor's cat post another selfie? I need to check."
Fifteen minutes later I'm drying off, scrolling through cats wearing sweaters. Why are cats always more photogenic than me? They don't even try. They're just like, "You feed me, you click 'Like.'" I wish I could have a boundary like that—"Hey, you gave me pizza once; you can go ahead and like my vacation photos."
Anyone here stuck in a group chat you can't escape? There's always that one friend who forwards the exact same video one hundred times, and everybody else thinks it's the highlight of their week. I just mute my phone like it's an ex sending memes at 2 a.m. Then I wake up at dawn, bleary-eyed, thinking, "What did I miss?" I open my phone—and it's Bob celebrating his new air-fryer chicken recipe for the fifth time. Meanwhile, I burned my eggs so badly this morning that my smoke alarm filed a restraining order against me.
I decided to get in shape. I downloaded one of those workout apps promising "six-pack abs in six weeks." After day one, I collected six new excuses why I can't work out:
Yesterday I finally ran so hard I passed out. When I came to, my neighbor was standing over me yelling, "You know you're not supposed to lean on lampposts, right?" I told him, "As soon as lampposts start offering aerodynamic support, I'll consider trusting them."
Alright, folks, that's my time. If you ever feel judged by a machine or betrayed by a group chat, come find me—I'll be the one in the self-checkout line, trying to convince a barcode scanner that kale is, in fact, a food. Thanks so much—you've been awesome!
Okay, here's a 3-minute routine focusing on observation and relatable absurdity, steering clear of puns. Imagine this delivered with slightly nervous energy, building confidence.
(Steps onto stage, adjusts mic nervously)
Alright, hey everyone! How we doing tonight? Good? Good to hear.
So, I've been trying really hard lately to be, like, a functional adult. You know? Paying bills on time, eating vegetables before they turn into a science experiment in the fridge drawer... the whole deal.
But the world makes it weirdly difficult, doesn't it? Like, okay, self-checkout machines. Brilliant concept, right? Speed, efficiency, less human interaction for us awkward folks. Except... it's never like that.
It's more like a high-pressure game show hosted by a passive-aggressive robot. (Mimics robotic voice) "Unexpected item in the bagging area." Yeah, no kidding, Brenda-Bot 3000, it's my soul leaving my body because I scanned the broccoli too fast!
You stand there, sweating, trying to perfectly balance your single avocado like it's a Fabergé egg. Everyone else in line is staring. You can feel their judgment. "Look at this amateur. Can't even buy groceries without triggering a Code Red." Then the light starts flashing... Oh god, the flashing light! It's like you've accidentally tried to buy plutonium instead of plums. And a teenager who clearly hates their job shuffles over, sighs dramatically, taps three buttons like they're defusing a bomb, and walks away without making eye contact. And you're left feeling like you just failed the entrance exam for... society. All because you wanted some yogurt.
And don't get me started on trying to be healthy. I buy all the healthy stuff. My fridge currently looks like a Pinterest board titled "Good Intentions." There's kale, there's quinoa, there's... something green and leafy I bought last week that now looks suspiciously like pond scum.
I have this internal monologue: "Okay, tonight, definitely making that salmon with roasted asparagus." Cut to three hours later: I'm sitting on the couch, covered in pizza crumbs, watching a documentary about competitive cheese rolling. The kale in the fridge? I swear I can hear it weeping softly. It knows. It always knows.
It's the same with exercise! I downloaded one of those fitness apps. You know, the ones with the super cheerful, aggressively fit instructors? "Come on! You got this! Push harder!" Meanwhile, I'm trying to do a lunge and I've somehow ended up in a position that looks less like exercise and more like I'm trying to retrieve a dropped contact lens under the sofa. My muscles aren't burning, they're just... confused. They're sending messages to my brain like, "Uh, Captain? We seem to have deviated from the standard 'sitting' or 'lying down' protocols. Requesting immediate return to baseline."
So yeah. Adulting. It's mostly just pretending you know what you're doing while trying not to set off any alarms, literal or metaphorical, and occasionally eating a vegetable before it dissolves into primordial ooze. It's a journey. A weird, slightly sticky, confusing journey.
Anyway, thanks for letting me vent! You guys have been awesome. Seriously. Give yourselves a round of applause for successfully leaving the house! I'm gonna go home and apologize to my refrigerator. Good night!
(Walks off stage quickly)
Recreate an interactive, nostalgic Pokémon battle UI in a single HTML file.
Tests an AI's ability to create interactive web elements
Tests an AI's ability to create a detailed world map in SVG format
Generate a single-page, self-contained HTML webapp using Tailwind CSS for a randomly chosen category/industry/niche.
Generate SVG art of a randomly chosen animal in a setting of its choosing.
Recreate a classic, retro, macOS Desktop UI. Make it interactive and nostalgic, make it as interactive as you can, you can be creative. Feel free to showcase your skills. The entire application must be a single-page self-contained HTML file.
