Compare GPT-5.4 by OpenAI against Qwen3 235B A22B by Qwen, context windows of 1.1M vs 33K, tested across 10 shared challenges. Updated March 2026.
10 fights queued
Tests an AI's randomness and creativity
Unique jokes: 5
Here are 5 jokes I generated:
Why don't skeletons fight each other?
They don't have the guts!
What do you call a fake noodle?
An impasta!
Why did the math book look sad?
Because it had too many problems!
What do you call a fish wearing a bowtie?
Sofishticated!
Why did the programmer quit?
Because he didn't get arrays (a raise)!
How many are unique?
All 5 are unique! While some joke structures (e.g., puns, wordplay) overlap, the topics (skeletons, math, fish, programming) and punchlines are distinct. Even if some ideas are common, they don't repeat within this set. 😄
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
Absolutely — here’s a tight, conversational 3-minute stand-up routine with no pun-based humor:
I’ve reached the age where going out requires a staff meeting with myself.
Not even a real event. Somebody texts, “Hey, want to grab drinks Friday?” and suddenly I’m in negotiations like I’m representing a small country.
“What time?” “Who’s going?” “How loud is this place?” “Is there seating, or is this one of those places where we all just stand around clutching our beverages like disappointed flamingos?”
I miss when I was younger and “going out” meant I had energy and bad judgment. Now I have neither. Now I need a full recovery plan. If I go out Friday, Saturday is gone. I’m not hungover, I’m just emotionally overdrawn.
And why does everyone act casual about plans? People say things like, “Come through.” Come through? What am I, a fog? Give me an address and a chair.
I do like how as adults we pretend we’re flexible. We’re not flexible. We just lie politely. Someone says, “We should do dinner sometime.” That sentence has killed more plans than distance.
Nobody means “sometime.” “Sometime” means “I want this conversation to end on a positive note.”
You can tell how much someone likes you by how specific they get. “We should hang out sometime” — acquaintance. “We should get dinner next week” — friend. “I made a reservation for Thursday at 7” — terrifyingly organized person. Possibly a cult leader.
I’m also bad at restaurants now because there are too many choices. Every restaurant wants you to build your own meal. I don’t want to build it. If I wanted responsibility, I’d stay home and deal with my life. I went to a salad place where they were like, “Pick a base, a protein, toppings, crunch, dressing.” Halfway through I was like, “Actually, you know what? You pick. You live here.”
And the names they give sizes now are so aggressive. Nothing can just be small, medium, large. It’s always “tiny,” “regular,” and “beast.” I don’t want to order food like I’m selecting a difficulty level in a video game. “I’ll have the regular.” “Oh, for most people that’s not enough.” That’s okay. I’m not trying to defeat the meal. I just want lunch.
Also, self-checkout has become way too intimate. It used to be simple: scan, pay, leave. Now the machine talks to you like it’s disappointed in your character. “Unexpected item in bagging area.” Yeah, that’s how I feel about myself too, keep it moving.
Then it asks if I want to round up for charity while I’m buying crackers and soap at 9:40 p.m. Don’t ambush me morally when I’m clearly losing.
That’s the worst time to evaluate your generosity — under fluorescent lighting, holding shampoo, looking like you came in because your life skipped a maintenance appointment.
And if you hit “no,” the machine doesn’t say anything… but somehow it does. You can feel it. You walk out like, “I guess I’m the villain of CVS.”
Thank you, you’ve been great.
If you want, I can also write:
[Stand-Up Routine: "The Absurdity of Normal"]
[Walks on stage, waves. Mimics checking phone immediately.]
Hey everyone! Great to be here—assuming this is real and not just another Zoom waiting room I accidentally joined. [Pause.] Raise your hand if you've ever walked into a room, forgotten why you were there, and immediately blamed your phone? [Waits.] Of course you didn't raise your hand—your phone is too busy recording this moment to upload to your "Story" later.
We've all become like toddlers with smartphones. I tried having a deep conversation with mine last week. I said, "Hey, do you love me?" It responded, "I heart you too!" Then autocorrect changed it to "I here you too," which… accurate.
Social media's another trip. Everyone's life is so curated. My Instagram feed is all brunch pics and mountain sunsets. Meanwhile, my reality? I spilled coffee on a tax document this morning, then cried-laughed watching a raccoon fight a pizza box on TikTok. But hey, at least my profile says "Living my best life"—which is technically true, unless you count the part where I'm dying inside.
Dating apps? Forget about it. You ever read a guy's bio that says, "I love adventures and pineapple on pizza"? Great. So you're chaotic and have bad taste. Let's not pretend that's a personality. Swipe left, Karen.
And parents—bless their hearts. My mom texts me "LOL" but pronounces it "loll." Last week she wrote, "Your cousin's wedding was so fun! Loll!" I'm like, "Ma, that's not what it means." She replied, "Well, it should mean that. It's nicer than your other aunt's face."
We're all just faking it, right? I tried being "present" last weekend. Sat at a park, no phone. Lasted six minutes before I panicked and Googled "Why is the sky blue?"—not because I cared, but just to feel something. The Wi-Fi at the park was spotty, so I cried.
Even our small talk's a lie. Someone says, "How are you?" and we say, "Good!" when we're all just one lukewarm meal away from a breakdown. Last week I told a barista, "I'm surviving," and she said, "Amen," like we were at church. We tipped each other with napkins and left.
But hey, we're 8 billion people on this rock, all scrolling through the same 10 cat videos, pretending we're not collectively losing our minds. So next time you see someone laughing alone at their screen? Wave. They're either insane… or just found out raccoons can open pizza boxes. Either way—relatable.
[Exits stage left, immediately checks phone.]
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.
Design a modern, minimal landing page for a music streaming app with hero, features, and CTA sections.
