The poke on the cheek is the straw that break's the flirty camel's back. Frisk freezes for a moment, struggling to hold back laughter, before breaking into an uproarious giggle fit. "Oh- oh my god," they gasp between laughs, "I can't believe it. I've finally met my match in flirt-fu." They take a step back and give an exaggerated bow. "I submit to your mastery, Sensei... come to think of it, I never got your name. Mine's Frisk."