Twenty-two minutes that quietly time-skip you past the ending you were promised. Nobita has a house, a kid, and a doorstep where a box of Mini-Doras shows up by mistake, and the joke lands because the boys pulling gadgets out of those tiny pockets aren't Nobita, Gian and Suneo anymore, they're their sons running the exact same playbook. The Mini-Doras are the whole gag engine: palm-sized, squeaking, hopelessly eager to help, which is precisely how the trouble starts. And it's Dorami who has to clean it up, because of course it is, the competent sibling with the ribbon and the melon bread who was always more organized than her brother. No lesson gets hammered in, nobody cries, the stakes top out at retrieving runaway robots before dinner. It's the future the franchise never dwells on, played entirely for laughs and gone before you can get sentimental about it.

Set in a future where the Doraemon cast have grown up and started families, this fantasy film opens with Minidora, a miniature Doraemon, being delivered by mistake to Nobita's future home. The sons of Jaian, Suneo and Nobita soon start playing with the special gadgets Minidora pulls from his pocket. When Dorami comes to take Minidora back, the boys run off with him, and trouble follows.