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(Oh sure)
"Uh, Ok. I guess." Frisk said, inhaling deeply. He pulled out the back of Asriel's shorts and underwear. He put his hand over his mouth, as the stench was rather overwhelming. He coughed, and took a peek. Nestled inside, and slightly smashed, was a warm mound of poop. It was a lighter shade of brown. Some liquidy poop coated both Asriel's rump, and the underwear. "Wow, you really did a number on these. But no, you aren't sick."
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"What is dead May never die, but rises again, harder and stronger"-Ironborn Rite
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