Compare Pony Alpha by OpenRouter against Qwen3 235B A22B by Qwen, context windows of 200K vs 33K, tested across 10 shared challenges. Updated February 2026.
10 challenges
Tests an AI's randomness and creativity
Here are 5 jokes:
There are 5 unique jokes.
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
(Walks up to mic, adjusts stand, looks around the room)
How are we doing tonight? Good?
I’m at that weird age where my body is actively betraying me. I’m not old, but I’m definitely… used. You know? I made a loud noise yesterday, just bending over to tie my shoe. It wasn’t even a crack, it was more like a dry twig snapping.
I sounded like a campfire. I had to stay in that position for like thirty seconds just to make sure I didn’t void the warranty.
But the worst part of getting older isn’t the back pain. It’s the technology gap. Specifically, the war between me and my "Smart" devices.
(Paces a bit)
Does anyone else have a "Smart Home"? Because I don’t think my home is smart. I think my home is a snitch.
I have a smart speaker. I won’t say the name, but it’s a cylinder that lives in my kitchen and judges my nutritional choices. I live alone, so I use it for company, but it’s a toxic relationship.
The other day I was trying to turn off the lights. It’s 11 PM. I’m tired. I say, "Turn off the living room lights." And the cylinder goes, "I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that." So I say it louder. "TURN OFF THE LIGHTS." It says, "Playing 'Blinding Lights' by The Weeknd." (Mimics frantic panic) No! Stop! The lights are on! You made it worse! Now I’m screaming at a plastic tube while "Blinding Lights" is blasting at max volume, and I’m trying to unplug it, but my hands are sweaty because I’m panic-sweating.
And then… the silence. And then the cylinder says, in that calm voice: "By the way, your posture looks terrible." It didn’t say that, but I felt it. I felt the judgment.
(Pause for laughter)
And don’t get me started on the self-checkout lines at the grocery store. That is the most stressful job I’ve ever had, and I don’t even get a discount.
I walk up to the machine. I’m scanning my items. I’m in the zone. Beep. Beep. Then I put a banana down. "UNEXPECTED ITEM IN BAGGING AREA." (Freezes, eyes wide) It’s a banana! It’s yellow! It’s curved! It’s the most expected item in the history of commerce! Why are you surprised?
Then the machine locks up. The light starts flashing blue. And I have to stand there and wait for the one employee who is monitoring sixteen machines. She walks over with that look. You know the look. The "I see you’re bad at technology" look.
She types in a code, looks at the banana, looks at me, and says, "You have to wait for it to register." I said, "It’s a banana, not a nuclear launch code. Just let me pay for my potassium."
(Adjusts mic stand)
But the ultimate humiliation? The "Forgot Password" protocol.
I have a theory that "Forgot Password" is the biggest lie in the English language. It implies that at some point, I knew the password, and then simply forgot it. That is not true. I have never known a password in my life. I know the first three letters, and then my thumb does a little dance on the keyboard, and I hope for the best.
And the requirements! "Your password must contain one uppercase letter, one number, one symbol, and the blood of a virgin." So I finally make a password I think is secure. I type it in. The computer says: "Password Strength: Weak." (Looks offended) Weak? Excuse me? "Don't talk to me like that. I'm trying to get into my bank account, I don't need a critique on my creativity."
So I change it to something aggressive. Like "EatGlass99!" "Password Strength: Strong." See? The computer respects violence.
Then I hit "Log In." And the screen says: "Incorrect Password." So I click "Forgot Password." And it asks me to prove I’m not a robot.
That is the most humbling moment of modern life. I am sitting in my underwear at 2 AM, trying to prove my sentience to a Dell laptop. "Select all the images with a traffic light." I’m panicking! Is that part of a traffic light? Or is it the whole pole? If I get this wrong, am I locked out of my email, or does the computer call the police and say, "We found a robot"?
I’m overthinking it. I click on a square. "Please try again." I failed the Turing Test! I am a robot! I have no soul! I just wanted to check my bank balance!
(Checks watch/time) Anyway, my name is [Your Name], thanks for letting me vent. You've been a great audience! Goodnight
[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.
