Five painters meet at their regular table at 82 University Place between 11th and 12th Streets for a round of drinks before dinnertime. New York City, 1950. A slow summer afternoon.

Franz, Willem, Barnett, and Mark gather.  Jackson is late.

In order of first line:
Franz (Frannie) Kline
Willem de Kooning
Mark Rothko
Barnett (Beans) Newman
Dinny the Waiter

Jackson (Boo) Pollock, never speaks

BEGIN!

Franz:  Soooooo, how's Elaine?

Willem:  Oh, she's fine.  Just fine.  Taking the week with her cousins in Montauk.  So I'm on my own for the next couple of days.

Franz:  Ah! Home without The Wife. (Nods in recognition)

Willem:  Yes.  I never sleep well the night before she leaves.  We inevitably end up fighting in the morning—

Mark:  And when you lean in for a goodbye kiss—

Willem:  she rebuffs me!—

Mark:  Oh yes!  It's almost textbook!

Willem:  But nothing like what they teach you in school. . .

The Group chuckles in solidarity, shaking their heads. Franz gets a bored look on his face and begins looking around for their regular waiter. The Group quiets and an awkward silence descends.

Willem:  She did pack the hat I bought her last week, though.

Barnett (quietly to Mark):
Wouldn't want that pretty face getting dark.  
       (a little louder to the open room):    
Where the hell is Dinny?  WE HAVE THIRST!

Dinny (flitting from table to table, with a high-pitched voice):
COMING! I'm coming, my Dumb Artists!
(sets down a basket of pretzel sticks on the table)

Barnett (picks up a handful of pretzels in his paw-like hand, and with bad aim, tries to throw them in Dinny's face):  
DINNY for godssake, we've been waiting here HALF-AN-HOUR!

Avoiding Barnett's spastic throw, Dinny stands towering over Barnett, grabs Barnett's nose with his thumb and forefinger and gives it a good shake. Satisfied, he stomps off to the kitchen.

Barnett (half-standing):  
Hummmfp!

Franz (pulls Barnett to his chair):  
Cool it, Beans—

Mark:  Jesus, Beans, what else do you have to do today?  You've got, a million half-hours to waste, isn't that true?

Franz:  You mean half-a-million hours.

Mark:  No, I mean Beans is a goddamn idiot and needs to cut it out—

Mark is interrupted by the front door, which has just opened. The Group turns to face it. Jackson enters. The Group breaks into smiles and moves like one fluid body with four arms, waving its friend to the table. Jackson walks ponderously over to the suddenly jubilant group.

Franz:  Boo, over here!

The Group pats Jackson on the back as he takes the empty seat; all get their hands on a part of him.

Dinny (flits over with a tray of drinks, nodding at the new arrival):
Jackson!  Nice to see you, baby.  You look like you need a double today.  Okay.  There, there.  
I take care of you dummies, don't I?

Franz and Mark together:  
You surely do, Din!

Jackson stares straight ahead.
The Group enjoys the first sips of their drinks in silence.

Willem (eyes searching the group, who are absorbed by the contents of their glasses, each sighing in relief):  
She's stopped modeling for me, you know.  Elaine, I mean.

No one seems to notice Willem's comment.

Barnett (hesitantly, grumbling):  
Should ask that little Nina Leen for a peek.

Willem (with a Dutch scoff):  
Beans, don't be rrrrridiculous.

Mark (ignoring Willem but perking up):  
Ahhhhhh, YES, that bird took our photo like a pro!  Boys, we're in Life Magazine!

Dinny, almost invisibly, sets down more drinks.

Barnett:  Oh, damn do we look good, too.  Boo and I're in the dead center.  Ha!  Life Magazine . .

Mark:  Long live THE IRASCIBLES!

Barnett:  Vive la Irascibles!

Willem:  I'll clink to that—

The Group (all except Franz) raise their glasses for a toast.  Jackson joins in but is silent and less exuberant that the others: 

CHEERS!

The Group clinks glasses and salutes each other with their newly full glasses; Franz reluctantly engages.  Smiling Group realizes—person-by-person—Franz's exclusion from the photograph and sets down their drinks.  All except Barnett, who continues to cheer louder and louder, standing up and climbing onto his chair.

Mark (in low tones, out of the side of his mouth):  
Beans, take a break.  Calm it.  I mean, calm down.

Barnett (chanting and oblivious to the now-quiet group):  
Life! Life! LIFE! LIFE!!

Mark:  No, no Beans—

Barnett:  LIFE LIFE!

Willem:  Seriously, Beans!  Shut your mouth.  Can't you see poor Frannie here?
 
Barnett:  Wha?

Willem:  Frannie.  Frannie, Beans!  HE WAS NOT IN THE PICTURE

Mark:  Sit down for godssake.

Barnett sits. The Group shifts uneasily for several minutes; they drink. Willem nibbles a pretzel. Jackson puts his head on the table.

Franz (in an outburst):  
GOD Boo, we all know your mother didn't love you, but that is no reason to be a COMPLETE drain on the afternoon!  We're just trying to have a pleasant drink before six o'clock.  PLEASE get over yourself.

Willem:  Yes, please do.

Jackson picks up his head but stares vacantly without acknowledging anyone's requests.

Mark:  Yes, and stay away from Peggy would you?  It's getting to be a damn habit.

Willem:  Elaine won't even let me talk to her.

The Group quiets, letting the sudden flush drain from their cheeks. Jackson scoots his chair back to stand up. He reaches into his pants pocket, then his coat pocket as if to search for something and pulls out an empty hand both times. With great concentration he counts out imaginary change and puts it on the table, as if to pay for his drinks. He walks slowly to the door. After watching this act of leaving, Mark, Franz, and Willem with a loud, collective shuffle, stand, put real money on the table without tip, and follow Jackson out the door.

Barnett (follows their retreat with his eyes.  He looks around at the now empty but cluttered table and, with a great transfer of weight, turns his chair to face the kitchen):  
DINNY!