The Great Game Gambit

Pinky and the Brain try to take over the wold using cryptocurrency and video games

In the dimly lit laboratory of Acme Labs, under the flicker of a single fluorescent bulb, two lab mice plotted their latest scheme. Brain, with his oversized cranium and perpetual scowl, hunched over a makeshift computer cobbled together from discarded circuit boards and a hamster wheel. Pinky, his lanky, wide-eyed companion, spun aimlessly on a swivel chair, giggling at a stray paperclip.


"Narf! Brain, what’re we gonna do tonight?" Pinky asked, his voice echoing off the lab’s concrete walls.


"The same thing we do every night, Pinky," Brain replied, adjusting his tiny glasses. "Try to take over the world!"


Pinky clapped his paws. "Ooh, is it the one with the giant robot badgers again? Zort!"


"No, Pinky," Brain snapped, rubbing his temples. "This time, we shall conquer the world through the insidious power of… a mobile game." He paused for dramatic effect, but Pinky just blinked.


"A game, Brain? Like hopscotch?"


Brain sighed. "Not hopscotch, you imbecile. A digital game. One so addictive that every human on Earth will download it to their devices. And hidden within its code, a cryptocurrency mining algorithm that will harness the processing power of billions of phones and computers to mine BrainCoin—a currency I will control, making me the richest and most powerful being on the planet!"


Pinky scratched his head. "But won’t they notice their phones getting all hot and bothered?"


"Silence, Pinky! The humans will be too engrossed in our game to care. Now, let’s design this masterpiece."


Brain spent days coding, his tiny paws flying across the keyboard. Pinky contributed by suggesting the game’s theme: Candy Cheese Crush Saga, a match-three puzzle game featuring colorful wheels of cheese that exploded into sparkly fondue when aligned. Brain grudgingly admitted it was catchy. He embedded a secret mining script into the game’s core, designed to siphon off just enough processing power to mine BrainCoin without crashing devices—at least, not immediately.


To ensure global appeal, Brain studied human psychology (via a stolen library book titled Why Humans Love Shiny Things). He added loot boxes, daily rewards, and a leaderboard that pitted players against their friends. Pinky suggested a mascot: a winking mouse named Cheesy McSqueak. Brain hated it but kept it for "marketability."


The game launched on app stores worldwide, uploaded via a hacked server in the lab’s basement. Brain used a viral marketing campaign, spamming social media with ads disguised as memes. "Are you cheesy enough to crush it?" became a global catchphrase overnight.


Within a week, Candy Cheese Crush Saga topped the charts. Humans couldn’t resist matching cheddar with gouda, their screens glowing as they chased high scores. Unbeknownst to them, their devices hummed, mining BrainCoin in the background. Brain’s monitors displayed a rising graph of his digital fortune. "Soon, Pinky, we’ll have enough to buy every government, every corporation, every taco stand!"


Pinky nibbled a cheese wheel prop. "Narf! Tacos sound nice, Brain!"


But trouble brewed. In a small town, a tech-savvy teenager named Zoe noticed her phone overheating. She dug into the game’s code and discovered the mining script. Zoe posted her findings on X, tagging it #CheeseCrushScam. The post spread faster than Brain’s memes.


"Brain, people are saying mean things about Cheesy McSqueak!" Pinky wailed, scrolling through X on a cracked tablet.


Brain’s eye twitched. "Impossible! My code is flawless!" But the backlash grew. Players noticed laggy devices and skyrocketing battery drain.


App stores began investigating. BrainCoin’s value wobbled as miners slowed.


Desperate, Brain hatched a backup plan. "We’ll pivot, Pinky. We’ll release a premium version of the game—no mining, just cheese. They’ll pay to restore their precious battery life!"


But it was too late. Zoe’s post reached a whistleblower at a major tech firm, who traced the game to Acme Labs. The feds raided the lab just as Brain was about to transfer his BrainCoin to an offshore server. Pinky, panicking, hit the "delete all" button instead of "transfer."


"Noooo!" Brain screamed as his digital empire vanished. The agents burst in, but found only two mice and a pile of cheese-shaped stress balls.


Back in their cage, Brain sulked. Pinky nibbled a crumb. "Well, Brain, at least we got to number one for a bit! Poit!"


Brain glared. "Pinky, your optimism is a crime against logic. Tomorrow, we shall try again… perhaps with a dancing app."


As the lab lights dimmed, Brain began sketching a new plan, undeterred. The world would be his—eventually.


The End