I need some scene shop assistance

I know some of you guys are theatre tech and engineering types, maybe you could help me out. Or at least, we could argue about this, which is usually at least fun, if not actually productive. Here's what I need:

I'm working on a float for the Snake Saturday parade. I need to come up with a way to build the bow of a pirate ship -- the design calls for the front end of the boat to protrude from a flat panel, on which the rest of the boat will be painted, trompe l'oeil style. The bow of the ship must be three-dimensional, and I'll give bonus points if at least one person can stand in it.

If you were building this, how would you do it?

I need some scene shop assistance

I know some of you guys are theatre tech and engineering types, maybe you could help me out. Or at least, we could argue about this, which is usually at least fun, if not actually productive. Here's what I need:

I'm working on a float for the Snake Saturday parade. I need to come up with a way to build the bow of a pirate ship -- the design calls for the front end of the boat to protrude from a flat panel, on which the rest of the boat will be painted, trompe l'oeil style. The bow of the ship must be three-dimensional, and I'll give bonus points if at least one person can stand in it.

If you were building this, how would you do it?

Excitement!

There seems to be something really large on fire a little bit south of here. It must be just on the north side of the river. The Weasel says it's a chemical plant, but I'm a little uncertain about how he knows that, and he is, after all, a Weasel. There's a ginormous column of blue smoke in the air, filling most of what one can see from the front door of my office. Of course, everyone ran out the door to look at it. So I'm sure we're all breathing in some sort of toxic, or at the very least, mutagenic chemical. So that's fun. I'll let you know if I turn into anything weird. Unless, you know, I turn into something weird that can't type. Then you're S.O.L.

In other news, Vickipedia! That cracks me up, which should tell you something about the absolute wretchedness of my sense of humor.

Excitement!

There seems to be something really large on fire a little bit south of here. It must be just on the north side of the river. The Weasel says it's a chemical plant, but I'm a little uncertain about how he knows that, and he is, after all, a Weasel. There's a ginormous column of blue smoke in the air, filling most of what one can see from the front door of my office. Of course, everyone ran out the door to look at it. So I'm sure we're all breathing in some sort of toxic, or at the very least, mutagenic chemical. So that's fun. I'll let you know if I turn into anything weird. Unless, you know, I turn into something weird that can't type. Then you're S.O.L.

In other news, Vickipedia! That cracks me up, which should tell you something about the absolute wretchedness of my sense of humor.