Spare parts (Five minutes freewrite)

Nobody could believe Johnathan would do such a thing. We all thought he was sort of a jerk, but still it was hard to believe he would go so far as to send a double to Grandpa's funeral.
Maybe you could pull it off sending a replica to your third cousin's wedding or some distant aunt's 85 birthday, but certainly not to the funeral of your beloved Grandpa Joe's. As kids we only visited him once a year, but still he and Grandma Marielle went out of their way to give us a wonderful time - pony rides, ice-cream treats, a trip to the waterfalls where we'd scream our little lungs out while standing in the small lake just under the water-curtain.
Fortunately, Grandpa Joe's only surviving child, Aunt Eleanor, was wearing a stylish black veil and did not notice the nephew extending his heartfelt condolences was a fake.
Actually, it was pretty hard to tell a person from their double in just a few seconds, as scan-print technology made it easy to create a perfect copy in little more than an hour. Sometimes it took a bit longer, when a decidedly odd-shaped nose or peculiar birthmarks were involved, but otherwise getting a double was as routine as taking your car to the mechanic. The first few years it was exactly like that as the technology was still in its infancy and the replicas glitched frequently. My own work-double used to do that a lot. The stupid thing would just sit there smiling at a client and asking 'How may I help you, sir?' Over and over. Till I came to collect it and take it to the shop again.
But that was like ten years ago. The newer models worked flawlessly, although, as a precaution, most people would disconnect their doubles overnight while they recharged.

Yet, no matter how perfect they looked, you could spot the AIs by their limited expression range - they could fake a smile or a laughter, but not the grief one would experience at the funeral of someone you loved. Jonathan had been living on the west coast for the past five years, but I was still his sister and I could tell the double felt nothing, not even a bit of fondness when he said: 'Hi, sis!'
As the ceremony was winding down, I made my way casually to where my 'brother' was standing, a bit removed from the others staring intently at the sky.
'Where the hell is Jonathan?', I asked, wasting a furious gaze on an impassive double.
'He's in Hawaii with his fiancee, Louise'.
Thankfully, AIs cannot be programmed to lie. I knew his marriage was a disaster, but I had no idea he had already separated from Diane. Well, I never liked Diane myself, so good for you little brother! At least, that explained it why he wouldn't be bothered with a funeral.
'I'm his spare', the robot added, probably its idea of sustaining a conversation.
I nodded distractedly, but then something clicked in my head.
'What do you mean 'spare'? Are there more of you?'
'Naturally. There's the work double, on a book signing tour at present, and also husband Jonathan, currently visiting France with his wife, Diane.'

(To be continued - hopefully!)

Story written for @mariannewest's freewrite challenge. Today's prompt was: copy! Check out her blog and join our freewrite community.

Thanks for reading!