So one reason why Mojo never gets lonely even if no one will be her friend is because she already has several enlightening and engaging conversations going on among her own several warring personalities hidden therein. For example:
(DOE-EYED NAIVE MOJO happens to catch something moving out of the corner of her eye as she passes a window.)
DOE-EYED NAIVE MOJO: What sort of woodland creature is THAT in our yard?
(CRUELLY SCIENTIFIC MOJO pushes DOE-EYED NAIVE MOJO aside.)
CRUELLY SCIENTIFIC MOJO: CRUELLY SCIENTIFIC MOJO TO THE RESCUE! Allow me to identify the creature currently befuddling your naive brain, and thereby SAVE THE WORLD!
(CRUELLY SCIENTIFIC MOJO spends a solid minute studying the creature half-hidden in the grass.)
CRUELLY SCIENTIFIC MOJO: Hmmm. About the size and shape and color of a chipmunk. No stripes I can see. The head is somewhat oddly-shaped for a chipmunk. It's the only part of the animal currently moving, too. Hmmm. It's moving very oddly for a rodent. It almost looks like...
DOE-EYED NAIVE MOJO: Oh, what is it? What is it? Please tell me!
CRUELLY SCIENTIFIC MOJO: No, it's—
(CRUELLY SCIENTIFIC MOJO sighs.)
DOE-EYED NAIVE MOJO: Is it some sort of new species we can name?
CRUELLY SCIENTIFIC MOJO: No.... It's a butterfly on a dog turd.
DOE-EYED NAIVE MOJO: Oh. Well, that's kinda magical, isn't it?
CRUELLY SCIENTIFIC MOJO: NO, IT IS NOT. SHUT UP.
For despite everyone's feelings to the contrary, in my experience butterflies can be disgusting brutes who seem to revel in wading about on poo. No, I am neither kidding nor exaggerating. If you don't believe me, just Google butterflies and poop, dung, or whatever other term you wish to use. Turns out your beloved butterflies are TOTALLY INTO IT. You will find THIS:
Yet another reason why Mojo is not invited to parties.