"Angels get hungry, huh? Color me surprised, I thought you all lived off sunbeams and happy thoughts." In he went, openly fascinated by the innards of the truck. Hey, died in the 1930s, even a shitty old beater like this was far different than what he was ever used to.

"What's these?" A cheerful tone with a tug on a seat belt.

Oh. Yes. No seat belts in the 1930s either, he'd have no clue, tinkering almost pleasantly with the clip the belt was supposed to lock into.